Peaceful Illusions
by GreenLady
Summary: A sequel to Trying Normal. The Gundam pilots decide to take a vacation at the lovely Emerald Sphere Resort, but a mysterious figure out for revenge could end up destroying everything. Yaoi, 1X4, and others. FINISHED.
1. Default Chapter

_Peaceful Illusions_:  Several months after the events of _Trying Normal_, the Gundam pilots decide to take a vacation at the lovely Emerald Sphere Resort, but a mysterious figure out for revenge could end up ruining everything.  

**Disclaimer**:  Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me; if it did I certainly wouldn't be here.  In no way, shape, or form am I being paid for this, it's merely for amusement.

**Warning**:  This story includes violence, swearing, and yaoi (also known as slash).  Pairings include an established 1X4 relationship, and others to come.  Don't like it?  Don't read it.

This story is for Caer, who, to put it simply, rules.

Chapter 1 

Heero Yuy pushed open the heavy oak door and slipped quietly into the office.  He leaned unobtrusively to the side of the door, out of sight of the vid screen, cobalt eyes fixing unerringly on the blonde in the middle of a conference call.  

"I don't care what Mr. Konig thinks, we are not going that route."  Quatre Raberba Winner, heir to the Winner fortune, shook his head firmly.

"But Master Winner . . ."

"No John, we've already argued this issue half to death, there's nothing more to say.  My decision is final."

"Yes sir," the man on the monitor said resignedly.

"Now about these acquisition files . . ."

The office door smoothly opened again, and Duo Maxwell entered the room and copied Heero's casual pose, so that now they were both flanking the door.  The two ex-pilots watched the impeccably dressed blonde for several minutes.  Quatre did not turn away from his business to look at them, but both could tell by his posture that he was very much aware of their presence.

The braided pilot's violet eyes finally left off their careful study of the blonde.  "I think you're right, but it's hard to tell," he said quietly, so as not to interrupt the call.

Heero nodded.  "I know, I probably wouldn't have noticed if I didn't live with him."

Nothing else was said by either of them until the conversation was wrapped up.  As soon as the phone screen went blank Quatre turned and grinned at them both, the genuinely pleased 100-watt smile not quite eclipsing the exhaustion shadowing the aquamarine eyes.  "You guys are home early!  I wasn't expecting the mission to be finished until at least tomorrow night.  How did it go?"  He bounced over to them, grabbing Heero for an enthusiastic kiss and then moving over to Duo to give him a welcoming hug.  Heero's forbidding posture unbent enough to return the smooch and give a half-smile to his boyfriend. 

"Piece of cake, the person who was sending those death threats to Representative Morris was just a little old lady with a lot of cats who didn't like his animal control policies," Duo said with a manic grin.

"You're kidding!" 

"I wish he was," Heero said with an exasperated sigh, "it was a complete waste of our time."

"Oh I don't know, Heero, it was worth watching you try and explain to Mrs. Joh that we couldn't arrest her neighbor for the attempted murder of Sir William Marlow."

"Sir William Marlow?"

"One of her kitty-cats, her neighbor almost ran him over.  She has a hard time believing that they don't have the same rights as humans, apparently they she thinks that they're her adopted children.  The lady didn't get off our backs until I mentioned that we'd have to arrest her cats too because they were an accessory to the crime.  That made her quiet down real fast."

Quatre chuckled.  "My, Preventer business is certainly busy these days.  No wonder I haven't been called in for anything."

"Hey, after cleaning up Orth's mess, we deserve a little R and R."  Duo paused and then beamed a naughty-edged grin at his two friends.  "Of course, good things came out of that whole fiasco . . ."

Quatre returned the smile and shot a glance at Heero from under his lashes.   That had been a difficult time.  Sandrock's pilot had tried to attend school, but the news that Heero Yuy had resurfaced and was leading an anti-corporation terrorist group called Red Thorn had forced him to go to the Preventers.  Before he had even been cleared for active duty he had been kidnapped, and found out that Everett Orth, a CEO in his own company, was manufacturing illegal weapons and drugs.  A confrontation with the wayward company man had led to the knowledge that Lady Une had been injected with one of the drugs, and had allied with Orth under the resurgence of her other personality.  In a fight with the man, Quatre had also been injected, and his Zero personality had emerged.  Heero had coaxed him back from the brink, which had led to the only good to come out of the mess.  Quatre and Heero were now very much involved, and living together.

"Oh, and Q-man, speaking of a little R and R . . ."

The door opened as if on cue.  Quatre's secretary Carly walked in with a stack of files piled neatly in her arms.  She had been one of Orth's unwilling test subjects, and he had hired her shortly after rescuing her.  Carly had turned out to be the most efficient personal assistant he had ever had.  The blonde held his hands out for the papers automatically, but she walked right past him and set them on his desk instead.  His eyebrows rose as she grinned impishly at him and then handed him a thin brochure instead.  He turned and glanced at Duo questioningly.

"Q, you've been working awfully hard.  Hell, we all have.  We need a vacation."

Quatre blinked and then glanced down at the brochure.  The words _Emerald Sphere Resort_ were printed in big glossy letters on the front.  Below them was the slogan:  'It's not earth, it's better.'

 "The Emerald Sphere?  That's that new space resort Winner Enterprises just completed, you want me to go there?"

"I've heard great things about it," Carly said.  "You'd all have a blast there." 

"Sorry guys, but I really have a lot to do here.  I'm not going to shirk my duties at W.E. again."  He held out the brochure to Duo.

The braided ex-pilot snatched the offered paper and opened it up, turning it so that Quatre could see the shiny pictures.  "Look at this Q, speed boats, pear sailing, volleyball nets, an open bar, hula dancing competitions, and romantic artificial tropical pools."  He nudged the blonde with his elbow and winked, glancing at Heero meaningfully.  "Come on, I know you two could find a use for that."

"Now is just not a good time."

"Sir, you do have a responsibility to check this place out and make sure that it's up to W.E. standards."  Carly pointed out.

Quatre smiled and gently shook his head.  "Nice try, Carly."

"We don't want you to work yourself to the bone here," Duo said, his joking tone hiding the truth behind the statement.

"Really Duo, I'm fine, and I really do have a lot of work to do."

"Oh come on, Cat.  Trowa and Wufei agreed to go, it just wouldn't be the same if we weren't all there!"

"But we wouldn't all be there, Heero would probably rather stay and make sure he's available to the Preventers, right?"

The dark-haired boy met the blonde's eyes.  "Actually Quatre, I think its a good idea.  If they really needed us, the Preventers could get in touch with us.  I think it might be . . . fun."  His mouth shaped the word fun like it was a new and interesting food.

Quatre stared at his lover in astonishment.  He had been sure that Heero would refuse to even consider going.

"See?"  Duo said, practically bouncing on the tips of his toes.  "We'd all be there."

"I don't know . . ."

"Don't you think Heero deserves a vacation, he's never had one before, have you?"

"No, not really."  The stoic pilot replied calmly.

"Never?"  The blonde said, startled.

"When would I have had the time?  You know my history, Quatre."

"Oh."  The blonde reached over and took the brochure again, staring at it thoughtfully.  "How long would we be gone?"

Duo grinned, knowing that he had him.  "Ten fun-tastic days." 

"Well, I suppose it couldn't hurt, as long as I'm not away for too long.  That is, if Carly can help me get the company reports drawn up . . ."

"Already working on it."

Quatre blinked at the brown-haired woman, noticing that she was beginning to look rather smug.  "I'll have to call Iria . . ."

"I've already done that.  Your sister says to have fun at the resort."

"Okay."  Quatre glanced from his secretary, to his best friend, and then to his lover.  He had obviously just been neatly outmaneuvered.

"We leave tomorrow Q, make sure that you and Heero have all your bags all packed.  See you then!"  He stepped back and gestured gallantly towards the door, allowing Carly to precede him out.  She smiled, still looking self-satisfied, and did so.  As Duo left he glanced at Heero and mouthed 'mission accomplished.'

Heero just smirked.  

The door closed and Quatre and Heero were left alone in the office.  The blonde looked uncertainly at the other man.  "Are you sure you really want to go?  Not that you shouldn't," he added hastily, "it would do you good to have a rest.  You do so much . . ."

The other pilot moved so that he was directly in front of Quatre.  He slid one hand to his hipbone and the other to his face, using it as an anchor to pull him in close for a gentle kiss.  He disengaged their lips carefully, and stared intently into his lover's eyes.  The blonde had to fight the urge to blink.  The intent expression still startled him, even after months together; Heero regarded him with the same focus he used to reserve only for missions.  Finally he spoke.  "Do you really not want to go?"

"No, that's not it, it's just that I have responsibilities here."

The brunette frowned slightly.  "Getting away from W.E. for less than two weeks is not going to result in another disaster, Quatre."

"That's not . . ."

"I think it is.  You feel guilty for trying to get away before and live a normal life.  That's why you work fifteen-hour days.  You're trying to atone for what Everett Orth did with your company by working yourself to death.  Well I'm telling you now, Quatre, that's not a viable option.  Do you have any idea what you're doing to the people who care about you?  Everybody's worried, your sisters, Carly, Duo, your friends at the Preventers . . . and me.  What would we do if something happened to you?" 

The blonde ducked his head, breaking their eye contact.  "I'm sorry.  I guess I didn't realize, but you don't need to worry about me, I won't do anything stupid.  You don't have to go through all this trouble . . ."

Heero kissed him again.  "Baka, didn't you ever think that I would enjoy spending time with you on this trip?"

A small smile began to bloom on Quatre pale features.  "Well, when you put it that way . . ."  He mirrored his lover's posture, though he had to tilt his chin up as Heero was about two inches taller, and enthusiastically kissed him back.  Both of the other pilot's arms came up and settled around the blonde, yanking him closer so that they were pressed flush against each other.  

Quatre purred into their joined mouths, fingers kneading the muscles of his boyfriend's back, like a particularly pleased cat.  Heero returned the sound, though his came out more like a growl.  His arms suddenly tightened, lifting the blonde up, and causing their bodies to slide against one another.  A breathless laugh was the response, as Quatre wound his legs around the Japanese boy's hips.  Maybe it was a leftover from a childhood where he had spent most of his time in the arms of one sister or another instead of on the ground, but the blonde absolutely loved being picked up.

Heero carried him over to the big oak desk and set him on top.  Quatre let out an indignant squawk, not a sound a lover usually wants to hear.  He pulled partially away, looking at the blonde quizzically.  "What?"

"You set me down on these reports.  They're not terribly comfortable."

He glanced down, and sure enough, white paper peaked out from beneath the blonde's butt.  "Hn."  Heero considered the situation briefly, and then rolled his lover off of them briefly, as he swept them to the floor.  The stack made a heavy thumping noise as it hit the floor.

Quatre winced at the sound and then grinned mischievously.  "Heero, what happens if Carly comes in to investigate the noise?  I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate walking in on us in a compromising position, considering it would be for a second time in a week!"

The other boy shrugged, frowning thoughtfully.  "She didn't really seem to mind last time.  In fact, I think we made her day."

The blonde laughed.

******************************************************************************************************************************

Quatre leaned over Heero so that he could look out the small oval of the shuttle window.  "We're passing by L4, now Heero, I can just barely make it out."

"I know," the other pilot said calmly, his eyes closed, feigning relaxation as a loud wail came to an ear-splitting crescendo from behind their seats.  Despite the relaxed façade, the blonde could almost hear the other man's teeth grinding their enamel to dust.

"Quatre," Wufei said from the seat on his other side, "why in the ancestor's name did you insist we fly commercial?  If that child's parents do not shut her up soon I won't be held responsible for my actions."

"If I'm going to take this vacation Wufei, I need to know how it is for the average customer.  No special treatment."

"Sounds like you're still working," the black-eyed young man said with an indelicate snort.  "I thought you weren't supposed to being doing that?  I distinctly remember Duo threatening to tie you to the poolside and pour those margaritas down your throat himself if you don't relax.  Besides, what's the point of owning things if you can't get special treatment?"

Quatre grinned and raised an eyebrow in amusement.  "It sounds like you've been talking to Duo."

"Sometimes, not often but sometimes, the baka has a good idea.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find a flight attendant.  I've been pressing this thrice-damned call button for the last five minutes.  No one should have to withstand conditions like this."  He jerked his head back, gesturing to the hollering child.

Wufei left his seat and headed down the aisle, in search of their erstwhile flight attendant.  Quatre would not wish to be their attendant when the angry pilot tracked him or her down.  He spared a minute to be glad that airport security had confiscated Chang's katana, though knowing him, he still had a weapon, or two, or five, hidden somewhere on his person.

Wufei had barely left his seat before Duo plopped himself down next to the blonde.  "That's Wufei's spot Duo, he won't be to happy that you took it."

The braided pilot just grinned.  "Oh, he'll get over it.  Especially since security took his sword.  Besides, he can take my seat next to Trowa."  The last sentence was said just a touch to casually.

Quatre cocked his head curiously, he knew Duo well, probably better than anyone.  Something was definitely going on.  "Duo, what, exactly, are you up to?"

"Me?  Up to something?  Why, what ever gave that idea?"  He turned big innocent eyes toward the blonde.  Quatre heard a snort beside him.  Heero's eyes were opened.  He looked at Duo, and then got up and pushed his way between the cramped seats, flashing them his ass as he squeezed through.

"I don't want to be in the line of fire when whatever he planned goes down.  Save my seat, don't let Chang steal it."

Duo smirked at Heero as he walked away, than turned back to the blonde.  "I obviously love you a lot Q-man, you have no idea how tempting that was.  Otherwise your boyfriend would have gotten a nice big pinch on his cute little behind."

Quatre wasn't fooled for a minute by the diversionary tactics.  "Spit it out Duo.  You obviously want to."

He grinned.  "Alright.  You know how miserable both Trowa and Wufei have been recently?"

The blonde blinked, confused, then glanced at the two boys in question, as Wufei had already taken the seat beside the green-eyed pilot; surprisingly, with no fuss toward the seat stealing.  "No, they seem fine."

"Ah, come on Q.  You work a lot, and you're all wrapped up with the perfect soldier of love.  Do you know that ever date those guys have had since the war ended has gone miserably?  That's when they even bother going out at all.  It's been hell convincing them to let me set them up."

"Duo, the dates you've set them up on are hardly a good measuring standard for future happiness."  

"Hey!  I really thought Wufei and Clide were going to work out."

"Duo, Clide was a biker with more metal in him then a gundam."

"While, they both liked sharp, poky things anyway.  But that's not the point!  Okay, so maybe I was a little misguided with some of the setups . . ."

"I'd hardly call sending Trowa on a date with Howard's twin a little misguided."

"But you see, none of those worked out because those guys and girls couldn't understand such complicated people.  It would take someone just like them to draw them out of their shells."

"Just like them?  Duo, please tell me you haven't found a clone of Wufei in some abandoned base somewhere."

"That's a scary thought, I so didn't need that idea in my head.  No, what they need Quatre, is someone who can really get all their varied narcosis's, and not run away screaming in terror.  They need another gundam pilot; we're the only ones who can really understand each other.  Just look at you and Heero, I mean you guys are really good together, if I can just throw them together enough, they'll see how much they like each other."

"Duo, I really don't know if it's a good idea to mess with your friends love-lives like that . . ."

"Oh come on Q, its brilliant.  They're perfect for each other.  Though I admit, the wedding would be a little quiet, considering they communicate through a series of winks and nods, but hey, otherwise it would be great."

Quatre peaked past Duo's shoulder at the people in question, hoping that Wufei hadn't heard the winks and nods comment.  There really wasn't enough room in the aisles for a chase with a sharp weapon.  Luckily, they seemed oblivious, and were discussing something quietly, heads bent close together.  The blonde saw Heero making his slow way back to his seat, forced to stop close by the two other pilots, as he waited with a scowl on his face for the flight attendant to move the beverage cart.  Quatre watched as he froze and suddenly turned to stare with a confounded expression on his face at Wufei and Trowa.  They, realizing they had been overheard, looked up and gestured him over, where now all three boys began to have an earnest conversation.

"Man Q, does that kid ever shut up?"  Quatre blinked, attention abruptly pulled back to his conversation with Duo.  The other man didn't seem to really expect an answer, as he leaned over the back of the seat and began making funny faces.  The blonde couldn't see the crying child, but he could hear the consistent sobbing start to become interspaced with hiccups, and then finally turn into delighted giggles.

Heero had finished his conversation with the others, and once again pushed his way between them to get to his window seat.  He looked over at Duo entertaining the now cooing child and shook his head.  "Where was he ten minutes ago?  He could have saved all our eardrums."  He noticed Quatre looking at him curiously.  "What?"

"What were you talking to Wufei and Trowa about?  I've never seen that particular expression on your face before, you looked like you had swallowed a lemon."

Heero glanced meaningfully at Duo, and then smirked.  "I'll tell you later."  He leaned over so that he could whisper into the blonde's ear.  "I promised I wouldn't tell Duo." 

Quatre was even more curious now, but if Heero said he would tell him later, he would.  He leaned back into his seat with a sigh, hoping this wasn't another prank in the ongoing war to get revenge for all those that Duo pulled so successfully.

"We're here, Quatre."  The blonde looked out the window to be faced with his first view of the Emerald Sphere Resort.  He blinked, impressed despite himself.

It really was spherically shaped, with green and blue patterns shifting restlessly across the surface on the artificial atmosphere.  He had read up on it, and knew that the colors we're there purely for visual affect, as they in no way mirrored the simulated weather inside.  When they got closer the blonde was able to make out the metal entrance, the only thing on the planet not made to appeal to aesthetic taste, as it was built exclusively for function, not form.  The gaping jaws of the docking bay opened, swallowing the shuttle whole.  Quatre leaned back in his seat, watching the excited vacationers around him chatting happily and sitting with their faces glued to the windows.

They were finally here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me; if it did I certainly wouldn't be here. In no way, shape, or form am I being paid for this, it's merely for amusement.

**Warning**: This story includes violence, swearing, and yaoi (also known as slash). Pairings include an established 1X4 relationship, and others to come. Don't like it? Don't read it.

Notes:  I apologize in advance, as this story is not going to come out nearly as quickly as its predecessor.  There just aren't enough hours in my day to complete everything that I have to do.  Sigh.  In this chapter, I was going for cute, but I think I mostly failed, as undercurrents of something else kept sneaking in.  Tell me if you figure out what undercurrents those were.  Hopefully it will also be somewhat humorous.  Thanks for all the feedback I've gotten already, and not to be greedy or anything (oh hell, I am greedy) but please sir, I want some more. Chapter 2 

Quatre pulled open his suitcase, lifting out his neatly folded clothing and depositing them in the hotel-provided dresser.  As he pushed the drawer shut, he had to take a moment and admire the seahorse-shaped handles.  In fact, the whole suite had a tropical island theme.  Verdant plants and hothouse flowers spilled out of every spare niche, permeating the area with a delicate floral scent.  The carpeting was luxuriously thick, and with its pattern of beige and light gray, it put one in mind of finely grained beach sand.  The king sized bed was shrouded by filmy white gauze, a reminder of the more romantic side of mosquito netting.  Surprisingly, none of these touches were tacky; some unknown decorating genius had taken the time to make sure everything was tasteful.  The result was a mix of opulent elegance and charm.  All in all, it was a fitting accompaniment to the Winner name.

Heero strode into the bedroom, tossing his suitcase on the floor beside Quatre's.  The black bag that housed his laptop received better treatment, as he gently set it on the right side of the bed, directly below the mound of overstuffed pillows near the headboard.  He followed after it, flopping down on the left side of the machine, hands folded comfortably behind his head.  Quatre's eyebrows rose as he took in the scene; the computer on _his_ side of the bed, Heero sprawled beside it with his eyes closed.  

"I knew it was only a matter of time before that machine replaced me in your affections."

Heero's lips twitched in a barely perceptible smirk.  "I'm enough man for you both."

The blonde chuckled, and then with a wicked look that went unobserved by the boy on the bed, he took a running leap and launched himself at his lover's prone body.

But Heero had excellent reflexes.

Within mere centimeters of impact, he grabbed the blonde out of the air, using Quatre's own momentum to roll him so that he was on the bottom, pinned.  Heero looked at the madly grinning, but now trapped, blonde and smirked.  "Did you want something?"

"Just wanted to stake my claim."

"Hn.  I thought you were good at sharing?"

"No, I'm actually very selfish."

Heero chuckled, but then in a lightening change of mood, he frowned slightly and rolled off, sitting back on his heels.  "Speaking of sharing, I've got something to tell you about the others."

Quatre looked at him curiously, and then sat up.  "About Wufei and Trowa?  Actually I've got something to tell you about them too, or rather about Duo."

Now Heero looked interested, and oddly enough, or maybe not so oddly considering Duo Maxwell was involved, a little wary.  "Why don't you tell me first?"

Quatre looked at him thoughtfully, then shrugged.  "Duo got it into his head that he's going to play matchmaker again."

"He's not going to enter Trowa's name into the former Oz soldier personal ads again, is he?  That was really embarrassing for both him and Lady Une. "

"Heavens no.  Actually, he's got this plan where he thinks he can get Wufei and Trowa together by the end of the trip."

Heero's jaw dropped open, then closed, then opened again as he tried to speak.  He cleared his throat and then finally managed to speak.  "This is going to be interesting."

"What do you mean?"

"Wufei and Trowa, they, well, they are actually already together."

"What?!  Are you sure?"

"More sure than I want to be.  I've known about it for over a week."  Quite surprisingly, Heero was blushing, but Quatre was to flabbergasted to notice.

How could I have missed this?!  Why didn't anybody tell me?  Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's more."

Quatre stared wearily at Heero.  He visibly steeled himself, and then nodded.  "Alright, go ahead and spit it out."  

The other man took a deep, fortifying breath.  "When I was on the plane, I overheard a conversation between them.  They're actually planning to, ah, seduce Duo on this trip."

If Quatre had been drinking anything he would have sprayed it across the bed.  "Both of them?!"  He blurted incredulously.

"Yes."

The blonde was quiet for a minute, and then he frowned suspiciously.  "This had better not be some kind of sick revenge against Duo's matchmaking techniques.  If they hurt him in anyway I'll . . ."

Heero shook his head and interrupted hastily.  "It's nothing like that.  I talked with them about it.  Apparently they both have feelings for him, they have for a long time.  One night it accidentally came up and they talked about it, and decided that they could try and see if it would work out.  I mean, quite honestly, he has worse luck at dating and relationships then they do, so there's no one his life that they'd be hurting."

"No, I suppose not, but still, this could turn out to be the biggest disaster ever, or . . ."

"Or it could turn out to be exactly what all three of them need."  Heero finished firmly.

"I should warn Duo."

"No you shouldn't.  This isn't our business, Quatre."

The blonde frowned.  "Of course it's our business, they're our friends."

"You mean Duo's your friend."

Quatre looked at Heero strangely.  "No, I mean they all are.  What's bothering you?"

"I just think that we shouldn't get involved.  If Duo doesn't want to be with them there's nothing they could do to make him.  He's a big boy, Quatre.  They all are.  Our meddling might only end up messing things up.  Besides, I promised Trowa and Wufei that we wouldn't tell him.  It's their secret to tell, not ours."

Quatre frowned and then reluctantly nodded.  "You're right.  Fine, I won't say anything to him."

Pounding on the door interrupted them.  The blonde hopped off the bed and hurried out of the bedroom to the entranceway, galvanized by the frantic noise as Heero following behind.  Before Quatre could open the door it burst open, slamming against the wall with a crash.  Duo dashed into their rooms, waving something over his head and laughing manically.  Wufei sprinted into the room after him, holding a towel loosely around his waist.  "Where did you hide it Maxwelll?!"  He copied Duo's athletic leap over the leafy green couch and chased him around the room.

Quatre backed against the wall hastily, followed by Heero.  He turned away from the wildly whooping boy and his pursuer, glancing questioningly at Trowa, who had appeared in the doorway and was watching Wufei's nearly naked form appreciatively.

"Duo hid his suitcase and is holding his swim trunks hostage."  He answered Quatre's unspoken question without glancing away from the chase, or more accurately not looking away from the bunching muscles of his lover.  The blonde shook his head at himself in disgust, wondering how the hell he had missed their relationship.

Duo dashed into the bedroom, Wufei following.  Quatre winced at the accompanying crash; the sound of two bodies hitting the floor, flesh smacking flesh as Duo bore the brunt of Wufei's tackle.  There was sudden silence from the room, and the other three pilots looked at each other uneasily as the quiet stretched on.

Quatre was just getting ready to go check on them when he heard Duo's voice.  "Ah, Wu-man?"

"Yes Duo?"

"Did you notice that you lost your towel?"

There was a long pause, and then Wufei's disturbingly calm voice could be heard.  "Yes, I'm quite aware of that fact."

"Um, so are you going to get off and let me get up?"  Duo sounded strangled and a little breathy.

There was an even longer pause.  Quatre winced, as he wondered if Duo was aware of the other way that sentence could be taken.  Finally Wufei spoke up, sounding conversational.  "Are you going to give me back my clothes?"

There was silence again from the bedroom, and Quatre could only conclude that Duo had nodded his agreement, because several minutes later they both came out.  The violet-eyed pilot was looking a little flushed, while Wufei was now wearing his shorts and a smug expression.

Quatre glanced at Trowa again.  The green-eyed man was looking just as smug as his lover.  The blonde turned to look at Heero, who met his eyes with the same expression of bemusement that he was feeling.

"Well," Duo said after an awkward pause.  "Everybody ready to head to the beach?"

Quatre spread his towel out on top of the sand, than straightened to stare appreciatively at their surroundings.  Perfect white sand stretched out endlessly along the shoreline, unmarred by sharp rocks, dried sea weed, or dead fish; one of the perks of being on a synthetic beach.  In front of him the ocean extended all the way to the horizon, impossibly blue waters lapping gently at the shore.  It was all an illusion of course.  The liquid really only stretched about a mile out, where it hit a huge screen that created the mirage of limitless breadth.  The whole "island" was like that.  Abounding flora and fauna masked the metal constructs that were the skeleton of the Emerald Sphere.  But if you looked closely you'd notice that the so-called natural world was a little too perfect.  There were none of the pesky little insects that could be found in the real tropics.  Neither were there any snakes, in fact there were no dangerous animals of any kind.  The brightly plumaged parrots and other tropical birds were a little too tame, with patience and a hand filled with seed they could be coaxed to the ground.  The plants and trees looked random, but were actually precisely placed, with gardeners coming out everyday to trim up any imperfections.  

The affect was really beautiful, and yet it made Quatre a little sad.  Yes it was gorgeous and lush, but after seeing earth the perfection was almost too much.  Too contrived.  Human beings were trying to replicate their home, and yet not grasping the spontaneity that made it so special.

Wufei came up beside him and crossed his arms over his chest.  "It feels fabricated.  More like a dream than reality."  

Quatre nodded in agreement, than grimaced at their melodramatic antics and sat down on the towel, folding his bare legs beneath him.  "I hope that this place doesn't give other people that feeling, otherwise we'll be out of business before you know it."

Wufei looked around at the other people on the beach.  A gaggle of children chased each other over the sand, laughing and screaming in delight as the waves lapped at their toes.  Elsewhere adults relaxed, spread out on beach towels and lawn chairs, reading, sunning themselves, or people watching.  "I don't think you have to worry about it," he remarked dryly.

The blonde smiled, taking in the same scenes.  "No I suppose not."

Heero spread his towel out beside them, and then sat up and rummaged around in his bag, coming out with a small white tube.  "Here Quatre, let's get some sun screen on you before you burn."  He squirted a glob into his hand and then moved behind the fair-skinned blonde to oil his back.  Quatre immediately arched into the motion, enjoying the feeling of strong hands moving up and down on his skin.  

Duo looked at the practically purring blonde, a calculating expression crossing his features.  He picked up the discarded bottle and tossed it to Wufei, who automatically caught it.  "You should really help Trowa," he said casually.  "He could burn just as badly as Quatre."

Wufei looked at the braided ex-pilot intently, then shrugged and moved behind the green-eyed man.  Soon he was mirroring Heero's actions, and Trowa was acting like a cat being petted by his master.  His back arching into Wufei's touch as his eyes glazed over with pleasure.  Duo was looking smug, and a little turned on, as he watched their actions.

By the time Wufei had finished, his secret lover was reduced to a pile of contented goo.  The Chinese man glanced intently at Duo, who was shifting uncomfortably after their little show.  "You could burn too, Duo.  Trowa, why don't you do his back?"  The other man perked up immediately, and before the braided pilot knew what was happening, he was situated behind him, hands gliding sensually over his back.

Quatre came back to himself slowly after Heero finished.  Shifting slightly, he hoped that his blue swimming trunks would hide his erection.  He suddenly frowned worriedly when he caught sight of what Trowa was doing to Duo.  The violet-eyed man was leaning back against the former's chest, dark eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as Trowa stroked the lotion up his arms.  He opened his mouth up to say something, but then Heero pulled him into his arms in the almost exact same pose as the other two young men.  "Quatre . . ." he murmured, the warning clear in his tone.  The blonde shut his mouth, but Heero could feel the tension in him.  The perfect soldier's arms tightened possessively.

By the time Trowa had finished, Duo was completely limp, (while most of him was), eyes at a glazed half-mast.  The tall pilot arranged him carefully on the towel, and then looked at Wufei, his expression looking subtly pleased.

They all sprawled out on their respective towels, situating themselves comfortably, though there was an underlying tension in all of their poses.  Duo had recovered from his Trowa induced coma, and was now shooting glances filled with a mix of confusion and something else less readily identifiable at pilots three and five.  Quatre was frowning worriedly at him, while Heero watched the blonde intently.

When enough time passed and nothing happened, everyone began to finally relax for real.  The fake sun beat down on the blonde, baking him and making him drowsy.  Before long he fell asleep.

He woke up some time later, sitting up groggily as he tried to pinpoint what had disturbed him.  He looked around, sleep-blurred eyes studying the other vacationers.  Nothing seemed amiss, and yet Quatre could not shake the uneasy feeling that had pulled him out of slumber.  It felt like someone was watching, the force of the unknown person's malevolence a violent storm brewing over his head.  Just as that thought crossed his mind the feeling faded away to nothing.  The blonde frowned as the world went back to normal and glanced around at the others to see if any one else had noticed anything.  The three prone bodies all looked comfortable and unconcerned.

Three.

Duo was missing.  Suddenly worried, Quatre stood up, brushing clinging particles of sand from his skin.  He glanced once more down at his friends, but they all looked so comfortable, and now that the feeling had faded worry seemed ridiculous under the bright sun, surrounded by chattering vacationers.  The blonde decided not to wake any of them up, and set out in search of his missing friend by himself.

He trudged across the hot sand, heading down the beach and carefully stepping over or around abandoned sand castles.  He noticed a boy ahead of him in the process of creating his own sand sculpture, then he suddenly stopped short as he noticed that the boy had a familiar braid.  "Duo?"  He said in astonishment.

The violet-eyed ex-pilot looked up.  Quatre hadn't recognized him at first because he was absolutely covered in sand, completely filthy; in fact, he was buried to the elbows in the ground.  "Hi Q!" 

The blonde blinked as he got a better look at the structure that Duo was building.  It looked really familiar . . .

"Duo, is that an Oz base?"

"Used to be, until we blew it up.  Good likeness, huh?"  The blonde could only concur.  It really was good, he could actually recognize the various parts of the buildings; there was the armory on the side, the mobile suit hanger on the left, and the officer's quarters in the center.  Duo had a photographic memory, and at one point, probably just before pulverizing the place, he had obviously studied the plans.

"Want to help Q-man?  I think we need a big lake off to the side . . ."

Quatre looked thoughtfully at Duo's creation, and then at his friend, once again noticing how dirty he was.  He shrugged, decided that a little dirt might be fun, and then sat down, right at the junction where shore met waves.  He began to dig a big hole for the lake, scooping out dirt and mounding it into a big mountain beside it.

They worked in contented silence for a while, and then Quatre spoke up, broaching the subject carefully.  "So Duo, what was the purpose of that stunt with Wufei's clothes today?"

"That wasn't a stunt, that was my good deed for today, it was all for Trowa's benefit," he said, without looking up from carefully molding sand into a mobile suit.

"Kinda backfired on you, didn't it?"  Quatre said casually.

"Backfired?  No way.  Did you see how he was checking out the Wu-man's studly bod?  It went perfectly, except for the whole tackling thing . . ." Duo trailed off and looked up, eyes a little to bright, suddenly fighting back a blush.  

Quatre had to bite his lip, hard, to keep from spilling out the whole sordid story.  Luckily Duo was engrossed in his own thoughts and didn't notice. 

They went back to digging in the sand, which continued uninterrupted until a shadow fell over them.  Both ex-pilots looked up, to see Heero standing there with one eyebrow raised as he took in the whole scene.  Two ex-terrorists, absolutely plastered with sand, building sand castles like five year olds.  Quatre waited for the ridicule to start, but instead Heero turned to Duo, frowning appraisingly at his little Oz model.  "You're doing it wrong, your calculations for the hanger are incorrect."

Duo stiffened and glared, offended.  "They are not!"

Heero hunkered down beside him, where they continued to argue, shaping the sand into little figures at the same time.  Quatre kept working industriously on his lake, creating mountains beside it with excess sand.

Several minutes later Wufei wandered over.  He stared in astonishment at the three pilots acting like children.  He expected this kind of behavior from Duo and Quatre, but Yuy was another matter all together.  He opened his mouth to say so, but stopped when he heard what pilots one and two were arguing about.  He abruptly changed his words.  "You're both wrong," he insisted loudly.  "It looked more like this . . ."  He sat down on his heels in order to demonstrate.  

While Duo, Heero, and Wufei kept talking animatedly about the exact dimensions of the base, Quatre was having his own problems.  The artificial tide was coming in, and the blonde had to build the walls of his lake bigger and thicker in order to keep the whole construct from being washed away.  He threw globs of wet sand into the proper place, working so frantically that he didn't notice the last member of their motley little crew arrive.

Trowa watched the argument for a second, than moved over to Quatre, and without a word set to helping the little blonde save his landscape.

The "sun" began to set, a spectacular display of pink and orange painting the horizon.  Meanwhile, five of the most feared men, in the colonies and on earth, continued to build sand castles until the stars flickered on like so many nightlights.

Heero pushed the door to their rooms open and headed inside, Quatre following behind him and wincing at the sand they were sprinkling all over the nice clean carpet.  He resolved to leave a nice big tip for the maid tomorrow morning.  

Heero suddenly stopped short, and the blonde nearly walked straight into him.  "What's wrong?"

"Someone was in here."

Quatre moved out from behind him and looked around.  What he could see of their rooms looked just as pristine as he remembered leaving them.  "How can you tell?"  

"The bag on the couch has been moved a couple of inches."  

The blonde frowned.  "It was probably just house keeping, Heero, nothing to get worried about."

His words didn't seem to reassure the other man.  "Maybe," he said tonelessly, prowling into the suite, checking into the other rooms.  Quatre crossed his arms over his chest and walked over to the couch with a sigh.  He was almost sure he was over reacting.

Heero moved into the bedroom, and the blonde frowned when he didn't come out again right away.  Suddenly, he was hit with a lesser feeling of the same unease he had felt on the beach.  

"Quatre, come in here."  The blonde looked up and began to move to the bedroom, hair prickling up his arms with the sense of disquietude, a premonition that he wouldn't like what he would find.

He entered behind Heero, and stopped short looking at the bed.  Heero met his look with an unreadable stare.  "Somehow I don't think we left this here."

 Arranged on the center of the coverlet was a small, and very dead, songbird.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**:  Gundam Wing doesn't belong to me; if it did I certainly wouldn't be here.  In no way, shape, or form am I being paid for this, it's merely for amusement.

**Warning**:  This story includes violence, mild swearing, drunkenness and yaoi.  Pairings include an established 1X4 relationship, and others to come.  Don't like it?  Don't read it.

**Notes:**  Sorry for the delay, but I had to take a brief hiatus due to midterms.  AND (give me a moment here while I formulate excuses) this chapter is twice as long as the others.  So everyone could just pretend it's two chapters, right?  Then I don't seem like such a bad person . . .  Oh, and I'm also sorry for the crappy mistakes in the beginning of last chapter.  I swear it wasn't my fault; ff.net is screwing with my formatting again.

Chapter 3 

"The songbird was a _piranga olivacea_, also known as a scarlet tanager."  Heero began to relay information without even bothering to look up from his laptop, voice droning in the style of a really dry textbook.  "Approximately seven inches in length, the scarlet tanager is native to the Americas.  It spends the winter in the canopy of the northwestern South American tropical forest, and then migrates nocturnally north through Central America and across the Gulf of Mexico.  The males arrive first and sing short phrases alternately high and low in pitch, characterized by a throaty burr."  

Quatre could feel his mind begin to wander and his eyes begin to glaze, an uncontrollable reaction to Heero's 'monotone lecture voice.'

"The males will perform courtship displays for the females when they arrive.  They'll sit on low branches and hold their wings drooped and slightly away from their body, with their necks elongated to display their red backs so that the females can see their plumage from above.  Females are also known to sing, but their voice is softer than the male songbird.  Despite the bright coloring of the males, they can be difficult to see, as they remain motionless for long periods of time among dense foliage as they seek out beetles, caterpillars, and bees.  In the colonies, especially in a place like this; fruits, berries, and buds augment their primarily insect diet."

Quatre jerked his drooping eyelids opened, and spoke up hastily before Heero could continue with the nature lesson.  "That's fascinating Heero, but its hardly relevant.  Didn't we spend enough time last night grilling the poor resort employees on how it got there?  I thought you were satisfied with the answer?"

Heero just grunted in response.

After finding the tiny, and very stiff, bird on their bed, they had spent a large portion of the rest of the night questioning people.  Quatre would have dismissed the incident entirely, as they had left a window open, but for the uneasy feelings he had been experiencing all day.  He had called the resort manager, who had explained that the island was rampant with these birds, as the designer of the Emerald Sphere Resort had been particularly fond of them.  As for the shifted luggage, a member of the cleaning staff had indeed been in the room, and although he couldn't directly recall moving the bag, he admitted that chances were good that he had.  Heero had grilled the man himself, and of course predictably, now the terrified man refused to go anywhere near their rooms.  Quatre had spent a great deal of time smoothing over that incident.

The most logical conclusion was that the bird had simply flown in through the open window and fluttered around until it died, falling to the bed.  A regrettable event to be sure, but most likely not a mob warning, as Duo had so gleefully suggested, comparing it to a scene in an old movie where a horse's head had been placed on a bed as a death threat.

Quatre was just relieved that they _hadn't_ found a horse head.  Heero was paranoid enough as it was. 

The silence that both pilots had fallen into was broke abruptly by a loud thud as the front door to their room was opened with enough force to slam into the wall.  Quatre winced, calculating the cost of cracked paint and broken doorknobs, as he looked up to see Duo dash excitedly into their bedroom, bouncing on his toes and eating a candy bar.  Quatre was surprised he didn't choke, though he hadn't been surprised at his appearance.

 No one else would dare to come in without knocking. 

"You guys are bor-ring!"  He sang obnoxiously, and then, after taking in their positions:  "Yuy, you had better not be looking at porn again!"  The braided boy leaned over Heero's shoulder to get a look at his laptop, still munching on the chocolate bar.  Crumbs from the carelessly positioned candy rained down on the keyboard.

Heero's jaw clenched as he watched bits of chocolate bounce off of his fingers and lodge between the keys.  He slowly turned his head and glared daggers at the other man.

Duo seemed oblivious to his impending murder.  "Geez, Heero.  Are you still investigating this?  I thought we had officially ruled this a death by natural causes?  Let the poor bird rest in peace, man."

Quatre's mouth twitched uncontrollably as Heero's glare intensified to cataclysmic levels.  The blonde knew that Duo was deliberately provoking the stoic ex-soldier; and he knew just what buttons to push.

He also knew just when to quit.  He was well practiced after all.

The violet-eyed man moved quickly back to door, prudently putting Quatre between him and Heero before the other ex-pilot decided to take revenge for the desecration of his beloved laptop.

"Come on guys!  We're on vacation, let's go do some vacationy things," he waved his hand vaguely.  "There are those great speed boats we could use.  Quatre could learn how to water-ski; I swear I won't throw you off Q, at least not much.  Oh!  Or they've got those volleyball nets; I could totally cream Wufei at that game.  Though Trowa might give me some trouble, I remember this one time .  . ."

Quatre ignored Duo's chatter for the moment, as he was only using it as a useful diversionary tactic to get them to agree to whatever he wanted – and of course to distract Heero from killing him – and so the blonde turned to his boyfriend and arched a questioning eyebrow.  The question was clear:  _well, are you going to just give in and have fun?_  

Heero sent a pained look at their still babbling friend, and then, with a look of resignation, gently shut his laptop.  His answer was just as clear:  _fine, but only if it will shut the baka up._

Five days of almost glorious vacation later, Quatre trudged along the well-cleared path, pretending to admire the fragrant flowers and teeming greenery sheltering him on either side, while he shot concerned glances at the figure walking along beside him.  Duo was uncharacteristically quiet.  His expression, now that he thought the blonde wasn't looking, was pensive.  Quatre was pretty sure he knew the cause of the moodiness, and he wasn't happy about it.

The last five days had been fun, but Trowa and Wufei's seduction plan was becoming the cause of a lot of underlying tension between all five of them.  Duo was tense and confused, as neither of them had yet to do anything terribly overt, and so he wasn't sure of what exactly was going on.  And although he hadn't called them on it, he was, at least subconsciously, aware of their behavior.  Quatre was worried about Duo, and Heero . . . well, Heero was upset about something, as he had become even more closed mouthed then usual, a sure sign that something was on his mind.

Quatre worried his lower lip between his teeth, forgetting to admire the shrubbery as he stared at Duo anxiously.  So of course, the other boy picked that moment to turn and look at the blonde.  Violet eyes widened as he caught the expression on his friend's face.  "What?  Do I have something in my teeth?"

Quatre started and looked away nervously.  "Um, no . . . so, how are things progressing with your plans for Trowa and Wufei?"  The blonde winced as soon as the words left his mouth.  

"Huh?  Oh, they're going good.  Real good.  It won't be long before all of my buddies are happier than a drunk with a free case of beer!"  Duo smiled, though the expression was slightly strained.

The blonde studied his falsely cheerful friend carefully, than he spoke hesitantly.  "Your buddies will all be happy?  And what will you be?"

Duo's smile suddenly turned frozen.  "I'll be ecstatic, of course," he said through clenched teeth.

"Really?"

"Just what are you trying to get at Quatre?"

The Arabian frowned, trying to decide how to phrase it delicately.  "Don't you ever think of yourself?"

"Every minute of every day, just like everybody else in the universe," he returned flippantly.

Quatre valiantly decided to ignore that.  "Why did you decide to set them up together?  Have you ever considered having a relationship with either one of them yourself?  I know you find them attractive."

"Ha!  Are you serious?  Can you just imagine that?  Wufei would kill me before we even left the house for our first date, and Trowa would probably feed me to one of his lions for insulting his sister."

"You know that's not true, what's the real reason?"

"Oh please, Q, you know they'd be better for each other.  Besides, this way neither of them would be left out."

The blonde looked at him curiously.

"You and Heero have each other already.  There are five of us, Q-man.  We don't exactly have even numbers."

Quatre was quiet for a minute.  Then he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.  "So it's best that you're the one left out?"  He hesitated again, than spoke softly, voice barely above a murmur.  "You, know, it doesn't have to be that way . . ."  
  


"What the hell are you talking about?  Q, stop being a mother hen, I'm fine.  You know, just because you . . . Quatre?  Hey, Q-man, are you alright?"

The blonde had suddenly turned pale and shaking.  He turned slightly, staring at the plants on their right, eyes wide as he tried to burn a hole through the densely packed greenery to see what was on the other side.  The wood turned dark, leaves and branches becoming dull and gray as the blonde's perception of his surroundings changed with what he was sensing.  Quatre was struck by that same feeling he had sensed at the beach.  Only this time the feeling was magnified by ten.  Somebody was watching him, watching him, and hating him, with all of their being.   

"Quatre!  God damn it!  Quatre, answer me!"

And just as quickly as it had happened, the feeling faded.  

"Q!  What's wrong?  Answer me!"  The blonde shivered, and abruptly realized that Duo was shaking him violently and shouting into his face.  He blinked and shook, glancing around with wide eyes at the now normal feeling rainforest.  "I, I'm okay," he finally whispered quietly, startled by the hoarse sound of his own voice.

"Shit Quatre, shit!  What the hell just happened?"  Duo pulled the still shaking boy into his arms.

"I'm not sure.  I felt something."

"You felt something?  What's _that_ supposed tomean?  God, I've been shouting at you for the last ten minutes!  You just completely shut down!"

"It felt like someone was there, I . . . wait.  Ten minutes?  That's an exaggeration right?"

"Fuck!  Not much of one!  Oh shit, this could be a side effect of that damn red formula.  I know snapping you out of that was just too easy."  Duo tightened his arms around the blonde, crushing him to his chest in an unconsciously protective motion.  "Okay, here's what we're going to do.  We'll go back to the resort, collect the guys, and then get on the next flight to Sally.  Damn, what if the flight's booked?  That would be too slow.  No, screw that.  I'll hijack a shuttle and get us back to earth faster . . ."

"Duo!"  Quatre shouted, or tried to shout as his voice was muffled against his friend's shoulder.  "Damn it, Duo!  You're suffocating me!"

"What?  Oh, sorry."  Duo let go and Quatre pulled away, taking big gulps of air, eyes widening painfully as he took in the rest of the braided boy's continued rambling.  "Duo!  Stop talking!"

The American shut his mouth abruptly; hearing the blonde yell was an unusual occurrence.

"I'm fine.  There's no need for us to go home, and you certainly don't need to call Sally."

"You're not fine!  You completely spaced out!  That's not healthy behavior!"

"Duo, do you remember when I told you about my empathy during the war?"

The American frowned.  "Yeah," he said slowly.  "I remember when you felt Heero self-destruct, you called it something weird . . . oh yeah, your space heart.  You really haven't said much about it since then."

"That's because it so rarely occurs.  Sometimes if someone I know experiences something big, an intense emotion, I can feel it.  It's only happened a couple of times since the war.  I think that's what I'm experiencing now.  Though it has never felt this strong before."

Duo stared intently at Quatre, violet eyes gleaming with worry.  "Are you sure it's the same thing?  What are you feeling?"

The blonde hesitated.  "No, I'm not sure it's the same thing."  He stared past the other boy, senses focused inward.  "It's like, it feels like . . . someone was out there.  Really close by . . . and hating me."

"Hating you?  Who the fuck could it be?"

"I don't know.  It's never been like this before, Duo.  I've always been able to figure out where the feelings have been coming from, and it's certainly never been this intense before."

"Are you absolutely sure it's the same thing?  Quatre, that shit that Orth injected you with, it was designed to mess up your mind."

"I know.  But Lady Une was given it long before me, and she hasn't had any side effects."

Duo frowned thoughtfully.  "That's true.  But still . . . let's go tell Heero and the others what happened . . ."

"No!"  Quatre interrupted hastily, eyes widening in alarm.  "Duo, you have to promise me you won't tell Heero!  Or for that matter anyone else, I don't want it to get back to him."

"Why the hell not?"

"Look, I don't want him to worry.  He'd overreact even worse than you are right now."

"Fuck Quatre, if you think he'll overreact from hearing about it, what's he going to do when you go all freaky zero system on him?  Or what if your feelings are right and there's some psycho out there ready to send you to meet up with dear departed Sandrock in the sky?"

"There's nothing we can do about either scenario.  If there is someone bad out there all we can do is keep an eye out, because there's no trail to follow right now.  But eventually whoever it is will slip up and we can take him or her down.  And if it's in my head . . ." he shrugged to show that there was nothing to be done.

The frown lines between Duo's eyes got deeper.  He was willing to concede that Quatre was right on the problem of their mystery enemy, if one even existed, which he doubted.  But as for the far more disturbing, and likely, idea that the Arabian was suffering side effects from the drug . . ." If the Red Formula screwed up your neural pathways somehow you'll need to see doctor, someone whose damn good with the human brain, some kind of specialist.  I'll bet Sally could recommend someone . . ."

The blonde's face was expressionless, as aquamarine eyes met violet soberly.  "Duo, despite all the advances in medicine, no one really understands the human brain.  The specialists that checked Lady Une and I out before, they couldn't really figure out what snapped us out of the drug's influence in the first place.  They could barely explain what it was about our personality disorders that allowed us to keep from becoming mindless killing machines like the other test subjects."  Keeping Duo's gaze, the blonde whispered gently.  "Do you really think they could help me now?"

Duo stared back at his friend, face draining of all color.  "So what are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing.  Either I'll be fine . . . or I won't."

"That is truly the most idiotic thing I've ever heard you say.  Stupid isn't a good look for you Q.  I'll bet if I told Mr. Trigger-Happy about this attitude of yours he'd drag your cute little blonde butt to a doctor fast."

"Don't tell him Duo!"

"Geez, why the hell not?!  Give me an actual reason!  And besides, when did you two morons switch personalities?  Isn't Heero the one who usually likes to withhold information?"

"Look, I don't want to completely ruin this vacation.  We only have four more days left before we go home.  If I promise to go see a specialist as soon as we get back will you promise to keep your mouth shut?  It's just four more days, Duo."

Duo scowled threateningly, but he was obviously thinking about it.  Finally, clearly against his better judgment, he nodded his head reluctantly.  "Okay Q, I won't tell him.  But the second we depart the shuttle I'm dragging your stubborn ass straight to a doctor."

Quatre nodded his head hastily.  "First thing," he promised quickly.

Duo glared warningly.  "Don't you dare make me regret this."  He was already regretting using Heero's crappy, vacationless childhood to guilt Quatre into coming, even if it had been for the overworked blonde's own good.  Clearly he had done to good of a job, as now it would take no less than Wing Zero's beam canon to dislodge the other boy from the Emerald Sphere Resort.

"You won't, we'll have a great time!"  Quatre beamed so brightly that the setting sun flashing off of white teeth blinded Duo.  "Hey, isn't there a hula show being held at the beach in half an hour?  We're supposed to meet the others; we should head over there now!"  He grabbed Duo's hand and started to pull him back along the path.  The American recognized his own distracting tactics, this time used to keep _him_ from changing his mind, but he still followed along without any fuss.  Though he did throw a glare at the back of the blonde's head that would have done Heero Yuy proud.  _Nothing had better make me regret this, or the God of Death's going to have to come out and play_, he promised silently.

Quatre watched in delight as the pretty raven-haired woman tossed the burning brands across the stage to the just as pretty raven-haired man.  The deftly juggled red and yellow flames sparked in an intricate dance as they flew through the air.

"Q-man, I'm completely amazed that those grass skirts haven't caught on fire yet."

The blonde blinked at the after-images burned onto the back of his eyelids, and turned to stare blurrily at Duo, who had yet another umbrella capped drink in his hand.  He peered suspiciously at the offered glass.  "Duo, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Blondie, by the way your slurrming, ah, smlurling . . . I mean _slurring_, your words I'd say the missions already been accomplished."  This coming from the man who had already had twice as many as Quatre, as the blonde found out when he peered into _his_ drink and found it quite empty.  He glared reproachfully at the glass, before remembering that an inanimate object couldn't be blamed for the current state of affairs, and transferred the glare to the blurry violet eyes of his friend.

Wufei leaned over to glance at the empty cup and snorted.  He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms above his head.  "Maxwell, if Quatre's tipsy your lucky to still be vertical.  Wasn't there supposed to be liquid with that pink umbrella?"

Duo scratched his head and frowned, nose wrinkling with drunken concentration.  "They must not have made it right at the bar . . ."  He listed over and wrapped an arm around Quatre's shoulders.  "Don't worry, I'll make 'em fix it!"

Now it was Heero's turn to snort from Quatre's other side.  He glared at the braided ex-pilot with a bit more venom than was really warranted for the situation.

The American took a nervous step back.  "I'll just go get some more drinks . . ." he stumbled as he turned to do just that, causing Trowa to get up from his chair and loop a steadying arm around the inebriated man's waist.

"Don't worry," he called back.  "I'll make sure he gets there without bashing his head in."  They lurched off, Duo leaning heavily on Trowa and loudly proclaiming that he wasn't drunk and was able to walk just fine on his own.  Quatre watched them go, expression changing to worry for the tenth time that night as he took in the possessive grip that the green-eyed man had on the American.  He was so focused on their progress that he completely missed Heero's features go suspiciously blank, though his deep blue eyes glittered with irritation.

Heero abruptly stood up from his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process.  Quatre swung his head around to look at his boyfriend questioningly.  "I'm going to go check in with the Preventers," he said shortly, turning and walking away, back rigid.

"Heero!"  The blonde called after him, but he was already out of sight.  Quatre hastily got up from his own seat, intent on heading after his errant boyfriend.  He certainly wasn't drunk enough to miss that something was upsetting the Japanese man.

A tight grip on his arm suddenly stopped him from following.  Quatre looked at Wufei, startled by the abrupt intrusion into his space.  He had never been particularly close with the other ex-pilot, and the only time Wufei had ever touched him had been when they were sparring.  "What is it?  I need to go talk with Heero . . ."

"Not without knowing what's bothering him."

"What's bothering him?"  Quatre furrowed his brow in annoyance, scowling at the Chinese man, having drunk just enough to make him a little belligerent.  "How would you know what his problem is?"

"It's obvious Quatre."  Dark eyes pinned the blonde steadily, making him squirm uncomfortably.  "He's jealous of your relationship with Duo.  And quite honestly, so am I."

Duo cursed as he stumbled and lost his grip on the beer bottle in his hand.  He winced and shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash of shattering glass.  When several seconds passed and the expected noise didn't come, he opened his eyes.  He looked down and chuckled when he realized why he hadn't heard anything.  "Nice reflexes, Tro."

Trowa had caught the bottle mere inches from the ground.  Circus-trained reflexes were a really useful thing.

Trowa straightened with a flourish and relieved Duo of the rest of his alcoholic infused burdens, setting them on the ground before sliding his arm around the American's slim waist again.

Duo stared at his sober partner reproachfully, attention concentrated completely on his face with the intent focus that all drunken people have.  "I can carry those!"

Trowa raised an amused eyebrow.  "Somehow I don't think that would be a very good idea.  I don't feel like wearing a margarita on my head tonight."

Duo grinned cheekily.  "At least it's lime-flavored.  It would match your eyes perfectly."

Green eyes sparkled with amusement, seeming to become larger and larger to the intoxicated American as he stared into them.  Then he blinked, aware of a warm puff of air on his lips, and realized that they were filling his vision because he had been unconsciously drifting closer.  Trowa's whole body pressed flush against his, and Duo couldn't help but notice the lean muscles shifting under the tanned skin.

Those green eyes sparked again, and suddenly Duo felt something wet and soft stroke across his bottom lip.  He had time to think, _did Trowa just lick me?_  And then a mouth brushed across his.

Duo opened his eyes wide with surprise; only able to see an indistinct shape that he assumed was Trowa's face.  That warm tongue was back, this time stroking coaxingly along his closed mouth.  The longhaired man wasn't sure if he wanted to open up, but when one hand, elegantly muscled and dexterous, slid from his waist to cup his bottom, he let out an involuntary gasp and Trowa's tongue settled the matter for him.

Duo groaned, hands that had been hanging helplessly at his sides automatically lifted to slide up and around a well muscled back.

By the time Duo remembered that Trowa was destined for Wufei his hands were up the back of the green-eyed man's loose shirt, stroking warm skin.  He gasped and disengaged hastily, nearly tearing Trowa's shirt off in the process.  (He tried to convince himself that ripping off the other young man's clothes was a _bad_ thing).  He stumbled backwards, still not very steady on his feet, and was only saved, once again, by circus-trained reflexes.

This time Trowa only held on long enough to make sure Duo wasn't going to topple over.  He pulled back and gathered up the drinks from the ground, and when he straightened up his face was unreadable.  "We'd better get these back to the guys," he said flatly.  He started to walk back along the beach, back stiff.

Duo stared after him with wide eyes.  Wasn't Trowa better off with Wufei?  Wasn't that what he had already decided?  What the hell had just happened?

Duo started to follow after his bewildering friend, much steadier on his feet this time around as he had been shocked into near sobriety.  His thoughts continued to race, but they kept coming back to one question.

_Had he seen a spark of hurt in Trowa's eyes after he had pulled away?_

"Jealous?"  Quatre blurted out incredulously.  "Of what?  Duo's my best friend, and that's it."

Wufei raised an eyebrow.  (Something he did entirely too much of in Quatre's opinion).  "Heero doesn't seem to think so, and he's rarely irrational.  I think he may know something about you two that Trowa and I don't."

Quatre fought back a blush, trying to keep his features impassive.  Heero did indeed know something.  He knew what had happened between his boyfriend and his best friend towards the end of the war; he had been a voyeur to the whole thing.  _But Heero can't still be worried about that, can he?_ Quatre thought unhappily.  It had been a single occurrence, something that was never to happen again; a moment between two boys who could have died the next day.

Wufei was watching the blonde closely.  "Something did happen, I was right."  The Chinese man was more perceptive than he looked.

Quatre blew out a weary breath.  "Nothing that has any bearing on the present."

"Even disregarding your secret, Yuy has plenty of reasons to be jealous."

"Like what?"  And then he continued without waiting for his first question to be answered.  "And what do you mean that you're jealous too?"

"You spend a lot of time together, alone.  And when you are with the rest of us you two practically finish each other's sentences.  You speak your own language, one that no one else on this earth could possibly hope to understand.  And you're always . . . touching."

"Touching?"  Quatre looked at him blankly.

"Yes, it's very automatic, very . . . comfortable.  He'll sling his arms around your shoulders; you'll grab his hand and pull him off somewhere.  It's all very intimate."    

"It's because we're friends!"

"I consider Heero my friend and we don't touch as much as you two do."

"Look Wufei, that's just our personalities.  Duo and I are a lot more . . . expressive than you guys.  Emotionally and physically."  Quatre glared at the other man, who just raised his eyebrow (again) skeptically.  "You're being an idiot about this, and if Heero thinks the same thing, then I just need to go straighten him out."  The blonde's jaw clenched in annoyance as he stood up; he looked more like he was going to go deck his impassive lover than talk about anything.  But Wufei's next words stopped him.

"He probably wouldn't be so doubting if you didn't seem so jealous over my and Trowa's attention toward Duo."

Quatre jerked back around and stared at the other man, for once shocked speechless.

"Whenever you see either one of us touching or flirting with him you get this unhappy look on your face.  I get the feeling you don't want us anywhere near him."

The blonde shook off his surprise.  "That's not it at all!  Wufei, it's just that a relationship between two people is difficult enough, one between three is incredibly problematic.  I'm just worried someone's going to get hurt."

"You're worried I'll hurt Duo."

Quatre looked at him, expression sincere.  "Duo's not the only one who could get hurt."

"Either way, we're adults, this isn't any of your business.  Stay out of it unless you're going to stake a claim."

Quatre opened his mouth, bristling like an angry kitten.  "What does that supposed to . . ."

"Hey guys!  Mission accomplished!  Booze for everyone!"

The blonde shut his mouth abruptly, turning to look at his two returning friends.  His glance sharpened suddenly as he got a closer look at them.  Duo was holding out the drinks, eyes a little too bright, even considering his drunken state.  And Trowa . . . while Quatre suddenly felt himself getting more worried than usual.  Trowa's features were a blank and expressionless mask.  This wouldn't be a shock to most people, as the green-eyed man was usually unreadable, but Quatre knew him well enough to know that he shouldn't look completely closed off, not to his friends.  The blonde hadn't seen him like this since the war.

Wufei noticed too, Quatre heard a slight, startled inhalation beside him.

"Well, I've delivered.  I hope you guys don't mind, but I'm going to head off toward those people over there playing volleyball.  I love that game!  Oh wait, hey Q, where's Yuy?  I brought his drink . . ."

The Arabian blinked and turned slightly after catching Wufei's glare.  The message there was clear, he was supposed to go take care of his own lover.  "I was just going to go back to the room and meet him, Duo.  I'll bring it to him."

"Oh good, wouldn't want any precious drops to go to waste!"  Duo smiled cheerfully, a relieved expression tinting his features.  Quatre tried to suppress the hurt he felt, realizing that the other boy was relieved because he wouldn't be around to grill him on whatever had happened.  This way the braided man could make a hasty retreat instead.

Quatre forced a smile, though he could feel how strained it made his features.  "Well, then have fun guys!"  He took the bottle from Duo and headed away, though he couldn't resist a look back.  His best friend was already bolting toward the volleyball net.  As for Wufei, he had stood up and was now talking quietly to Trowa, they stood close together, almost, but not quite, touching. 

The blonde walked slowly back toward the room he shared with Heero.  Festive torches lighted his path, keeping the darkness at bay.  Quatre wished he were walking in darkness; it was more conducive to his mood.  Not to mention the slower pace required to keep from falling off hidden cliffs would have given him more time to construct something reassuring to say to his lover.

But all to soon he was at their door.  To his credit he only hesitated a minute before opening it and going inside.

The suite was darker than the artificial night outside.  Quatre slipped off his shoes and padded toward the bedroom, where a single light was on.  He moved to the doorway and peeked in.  "Heero?"  He called softly, voice automatically quieting to match the gloom.

The bedroom was empty.  Quatre had seconds to mere seconds to register this before he felt movement from behind him, from the dark rooms he had just passed through.  He moved on instinct, getting a grip on the body behind him and trying to throw whomever it was into the light. 

The tables were suddenly turned on him as he felt a whoosh of displaced air, and then was himself thrown to the bed.  Quatre landed with a soft thump, bounced for a minute, and then settled on the covers.  He blinked up at the ceiling, not alarmed by his sudden flight as the power and speed to complete such a move could only belong to one person.

Sure enough, soon he felt the mattress dip as Heero climbed on, leaning over the blonde.  "You shouldn't just walk into a dark room like that Quatre."

Quatre snorted softly.  "You need a bell," he said dryly. 

Heero had an inscrutable look on his face, though it quickly changed to something the blonde recognized, mostly through repetition.  

Then Heero pounced, literally.

He attacked the blonde's neck first, sucking and nibbling the soft skin.  Quatre gasped and moaned, his neck was really sensitive to this kind of attack, and he arched his hips helplessly into Heero's hot body.  Hot temperature-wise, for some reason Heero's body temperature was almost five degrees warmer than other people's.  

Quatre reached his arms around to stroke his lover's back, but before he could complete the action his wrists were grabbed and firmly cuffed above his head in a one handed-grip.  Heero's other hand moved quickly down the blonde's body, unsnapping and pulling off clothes with nearly frantic haste.  His mouth followed the path of the discarded clothing, and soon the blonde was reduced to a moaning mass of sensitive flesh.

Before Quatre completely lost all reason he had time to think that maybe this was what Heero needed.  Maybe he didn't need to talk about their issues; maybe what he needed was to physically express his feeling.  He needed to stake his claim.

And Quatre wasn't going to complain.

Duo stood in front of Trowa's door, like he had been for the past hour.  He was fairly steady on his feet now; the alcohol had mostly worn off.  The volleyball hadn't lasted long; he had only stayed long enough to make sure that everyone else left.  He didn't want talk; he was to confused.  He needed to be alone to think.  And that's what he had been doing for the past two hours.  Thinking.  And he was officially sick of it.

He needed to talk to Trowa.  He knew he did, and yet he couldn't quite bring himself to knock on the door.  Mostly because he wasn't sure what he was going to say.

Trowa was probably sleeping by now anyway.

He turned to walk away, and then stopped and turned back.  If he didn't talk to the green-eyed man now he'd just have to talk to him tomorrow.

But he was probably sleeping . . . 

Duo took a step closer to the door and stared down at the knob.  Maybe he should just peek in and see if he was asleep or not.  If he was Duo could just wait until tomorrow.  He was good at sneaking; he could do it without waking Trowa up.

Decision made, Duo grabbed the door handle, than stared blankly when it didn't turn.

Locked.

But when had that ever stopped him before?  Shrugging, he reached into his hair and pulled out his lock picks.  Within seconds he heard a soft, nearly imperceptible click as the mechanisms gave, the sweetest sound a thief could hear.  

Duo gently pushed the door open and stepped into the suite.  It was dark, but there was a light shining from the bedroom.  Bracing himself for an uncomfortable conversation he walked softly toward it, then stopped suddenly as a faint sound was picked up be his sharp ears.  Curious, he snuck to the bedroom door and looked in.  Then he froze in shock.

Trowa was indeed awake.

Wufei was too.

For almost a full minute he remained frozen in the doorway, unable to look away from the entwined couple on the bed.

Then Wufei looked up.  Dark, passion-clouded eyes stared uncomprehendingly at him, then widened in startled recognition.  They stared at each other for a moment, then Wufei opened his mouth to speak, and Duo suddenly found his paralysis broken.

He fled.

He heard somebody shout after him, but by that time he was skidding through the doorway.  He ran out of the building and headed into the trees, ignoring branches and foliage as he crashed through them.  

_God, what the hell is wrong with me?_  A nearly hysterical thought bubbled up through his head.  _Isn't this what you wanted?_  A nasty little voice spoke up.  _Weren't you pushing those two together?  And now they definitely are, aren't you happy?  _A sharp twig scratched across his cheek, drawing blood.  _Maybe I would have been if Trowa hadn't kissed me, I mean, what the hell was that?_

_Did you think that meant something?_

Duo laughed, the sound coming out more like a sob.  He had wanted it to mean something, but it never did.  All he had were stolen moments.  The kiss with Trowa had been such a moment.  So had that time with Quatre on the Peacemillion.  Neither one of them had been his to keep.

Some people were just meant to be alone.

Duo tripped painfully over an exposed root.  He lurched back to his feet and kept running.

Maybe he would run forever, or at least until his heart burst.

He stumbled again, catching himself just in time, or he would have.

Had the ground not collapsed under his feet. 

Along with a rain of dirt and well-placed palm fronds Duo fell into the ground.

Down into the dark earth.

**Yet More Notes:**  CJ and Siren Alecto:  thanks for pointing out those mistakes for me.  I'm not sure how I managed to do that, but now it's (hopefully) corrected.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**  Gundam Wing belongs to richer people than me.  I'm only borrowing, and I promise they'll be returned in near mint condition.

**Warnings:**  Rated R through out, swearing, sexual situations, and violence.  If you don't know it by now, (and you should) this story is YAOI/Slash.

**Notes:**  I'm sorry to say that another update can't be expected until February.  I'm studying abroad, and I won't have the time, inclination, or computer access to work on this.  But I'll only be gone for a month, so don't be alarmed!

Chapter 4 

Quatre lazily opened his eyes.  He was warm and comfortable, with his limbs still in the jellified stage.  There was no rush to leave the bed just yet; in fact, there was no rush to move at all.  Instead, he took the time to study the unconscious features of the boy lying beside him.

It was rare to see Heero like this.  With his face completely relaxed, and those intense eyes closed, he actually looked his age.  In fact, with his sooty lashes brushing against his cheeks, and his chocolate hair sticking to the pillow at odd angles, he looked ridiculously young.  _Like he would have looked if he hadn't been tainted with war and death_, Quatre thought sadly.

He barely had time to complete the thought before rich blue eyes opened, instantly moving from sleep to full awareness, without the movement of any other muscle to signify the return to consciousness.  However, knowing Heero, he had already been awake evaluating his location and situation for possible danger.  Some wartime habits were harder to break than others.

Quatre smiled in greeting, stretching lazily against his bedmate.  "Good morning."

"Good morning."  Heero's expression was softer than usual, blue eyes almost tender in their regard of the blonde.  Not able to resist that look, Quatre leaned in and planted a closed-mouth kiss on the Japanese pilot's lips.  He paused after drawing away, staring at Heero thoughtfully.  Then he moved back in and lightly kissed the other man's jawbone.

Heero was uncharacteristically passive.  His only participation coming in the form of tilting back his head to allow the blonde to trial kisses down the soft skin of his throat.  Quatre paused at his collarbone, stopping to study the seemingly fragile protrusion before placing a soft, worshipful kiss there before continuing.

Quatre took his time, nibbling his way down the Japanese man's sculpted chest until he reached his stomach.  Heero's muscles were still relaxed and motionless, the only sign of enjoyment the harshening of his breath.  The blonde shot a measuring glance up at his face.  Heero's eyes were closed in a parody of sleep, pink lips slightly parted.  Quatre turned back to his self-appointed task, exhaling warm puffs of air onto his lover's belly teasingly.  The muscles rippled in a silent shudder.  Grinning smugly at the reaction, and deciding to stop teasing, he hooked his fingers in the band of Heero's sweatpants and pulled them smoothly off in one complete motion.  Quatre clamored back to his previous position, though this time he moved lower.

And than somebody knocked on the door.

Quatre spit out an uncharacteristic curse.  He remained still for several moments, hoping frantically that whoever was there would take the hint and go away, but the pounding only got louder and more insistent.  He glanced up to Heero's face; cobalt eyes were open and glaring at the ceiling in clear frustration.

The blonde realized that whoever was there wasn't planning on going away any time soon.  Sighing, he climbed off the bed.  Pausing to snag a robe, he walked out of the bedroom and to the door, pulling it open.  No sooner had he done so before Trowa, for that was who had been knocking, pushed past him without even bothering to even say hello.  He moved quickly, throwing open doors and checking rooms.

Quatre watched curiously for a minute, then turned and shot a questioning glance at Wufei, who had arrived behind the tall pilot, but had not yet advanced into the room.  Instead, he stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.  He didn't meet the blonde's gaze, his dark eyes remained glued to pilot 03's muscular frame.

Trowa finally stopped his mysterious search at the entrance to the bedroom, where a very naked Heero sat in the center of the king-sized mattress.  He made no move to grab a blanket to cover his nudity.  Clearly, he felt that the full-blown death glare he was wearing was more than sufficient as clothing.

"He's not here."  It wasn't a question, and the dejection in the tall man's voice was clearly audible.

"Who's not here?  Duo?"

Trowa leaned against the doorframe wearily, not answering Quatre's question.  Instead, Wufei was the one to speak, voice neutral.  "He's missing."

Duo groaned, bleary violet eyes blinking open cautiously.  "Damn," he muttered, "what the fuck was I drinking last night?"  He tried to sit up, then hissed in pain as his abused head let him know exactly what it thought of _that_ idea.  He reached up to cradle the abused appendage, only to blink with surprise when he felt the painful knot on the back of his head.

"Shit."  He felt stupid.  Duo, of all people, should have known the difference between a hangover and a head injury.  God knows he had enough of both.  He looked up again, slower this time, to take in his surroundings.

What he saw was not reassuring.

The last thing he remembered was falling, but that still didn't explain where he was now.  He was in a featureless room, gray walls, gray ceiling, gray floor.  As far as he could tell, there was no door, and there certainly weren't any windows, so how the hell had he ended up here?

Duo cautiously got to his feet.  He staggered slightly, but somehow managed to remain upright, then, moving slowly so as not to jar his head, he paced the room, inspecting the walls.  His first impression was confirmed; they were eerily seamless.  He stilled, leaning his aching head wearily against the wall, motionless, until in a sudden fit of frustration he punched the unyielding surface.

Duo began to swear angrily at his own stupidity, pulling the bruised knuckles to his mouth.  He started his cursing in English, but finding it inadequate, he continued in French, Japanese, Chinese, Italian, and even Arabic.  He glared wrathfully at the wall.  It was made of some kind of metal.  Not gundanium, certainly, but it might as well have been.

The stream of multi-lingual curses ended.  Okay.  So he was trapped.  No different than any other situation he had been in during the war.

Except of course for that disconcerting lack of doors.

"Why is it always me in these situation?"  Usually he at least had a lock to pick, though come to think of it, that certainly hadn't helped when he and Wufei had been held in that Oz cell on the moon, helplessly waiting for their oxygen supply to run out . . .  _Oh, that was a wonderful thing to think about Maxwell, let's make sure to remember my buddy Wuffers._  Wufei, and that wonderful little scene he had witnessed.  Come to think of it, hadn't Trowa been around during that little cell escapade too?

Duo lurched to the middle of the room and raised his fist, shouting at the ceiling.  "Could my life possibly get any worse?!"  Then, as if the gods had just been waiting for him to tempt fate, something happened.  He lowered his arm, looking around wildly as he heard a quiet mechanical noise.  Suddenly he had a very bad feeling.

Small holes had opened in the previously featureless walls.  He stared at the innocuous little openings, desperately trying to ignore the tightening in his stomach that signified extreme danger.  Another small sound reached his sharp ears, and he watched as a thin stream of water began to shoot out of each hole one by one.  The liquid snaked across the monochrome floor, moving slowly but surely to eddy around his feet, barely wetting the soles of his running shoes.

Duo tore his hypnotized gaze away from the water, once again taking in the blank, gray, and apparently _airtight_ box that he was trapped in.  Perhaps this situation had more in common with the moon base cell than he had first thought.  Right now, it was a very small amount of water, but chances were good, at least with his luck, that it wouldn't stay that way.  It would rise until it reached the ceiling, and then . . . 

"Ah, fuck."

" . . . and then he ran off, and we weren't in any position to follow.  We've been searching the resort all night, but he's made himself scarce."

Quatre frowned, sitting on the rumpled bed by a now fully clothed Heero.  Trowa and Wufei sat ensconced in the plush white armchairs decorating the other side of the bedroom.  They were all quiet for several uncomfortable moments before Heero spoke.  "If there's one thing Duo's good at, it's hiding.  If he doesn't want to be found . . . " He trailed off, the implications obvious.

The blonde bit his tongue, fighting to keep himself from shouting out the most irritating four word combination in the English language:  "I told you so!"  He glanced discreetly at Heero out of the corner of his eye.  The Japanese man's jaw was tense.  A sure, though stoic, sign that he was actually worried about the "American baka," as he so lovingly called him.

Finally, the quiet had dragged on to long for Quatre to resist temptation, though he chose something at least a little subtler than "I told you so."  " He'll come to us when he's ready, and when he does, you two have to stop playing these ridiculous seduction games.  If you had just been straight with him in the beginning, none of this would have happened!"

Trowa hung his head, clearly stung by the blonde's words, though when he looked up again his face was carefully composed into its protective expressionless mask.  For once Quatre was too angry to care if Trowa chose to revert to wartime defense mechanisms.

However, Wufei was not.  "We only approached him in that way because being blunt would have destroyed any chance we had.  He's to used to being alone, and way to damned stubborn, to accept or even acknowledge any feelings he may have unless he has time to decide them on his own!"

"You could have been upfront, and then backed off to give him room to decide for himself!"

"You know that wouldn't have . . ."

"How do you know?"  They were both shouting now.  Wufei had moved to stand protectively in front of Trowa, deflecting the blonde's antagonism towards himself.  "You never gave him any chance to . . ."

"Damn it, Winner!"  Wufei interrupted angrily.  "If we had just proposed a relationship we would have lost him!  How can you not know that about Duo, don't you know that he . . . what the hell is that?!"

The argument abruptly came to a crashing halt as something small and yellow zipped over their heads.  The tiny form flitted drunkenly around the room before running smack into the dresser mirror and falling limply to the wooden surface.

Quatre moved several feet so that he could see the creature that had invaded their room.  "Piranga Olivacea, it's another scarlet tanager," the blonde said quietly, having inadvertently absorbed more from Heero's impromptu lecture then he had originally cared to.  He started to walk toward it again, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.  His lover had a gun in his hand, (who knew how he had managed to smuggle that through security), and was pointing it at the motionless animal.  "I don't think the bird is armed, Heero."  Quatre said dryly.

Ducking the restraining hand, the blonde moved over to the dresser, Trowa joining him seconds later.  The bedraggled creature was still alive, wings flapping erratically.  It attempted to chirp, but the sound that emerged was more of a piteous croak, so unlike its usual melodious song.

Trowa cupped his hands around the small songbird, bringing it up to his chest to be cradled.  It calmed slightly in the arms of the tall pilot, than let out another sad, off key sound as its last word before going completely still.

Trowa made no move to set the dead bird down, and Wufei walked to him and put a comforting hand on his arm.  He frowned, dark eyes looking up and meeting Quatre's.  "Once is a coincidence.  Two dying here is not."

"Someone killed it."

All three ex-pilots looked up at Trowa's quiet statement.  Holding the bird cupped in the palm of his left hand, he held it so they could all see.  The feathers on its breast were sadly bedraggled, bare patches of skin showing through.  In the naked spots, a line of finely done black stitches marched their way across the bird's chest like a parade of army ants.  A small dark triangle of synthetic material brutally poked its way out at the top.  "There's something inside," Trowa said evenly.

Heero immediately had his gun out again.  His arm shot out to grab the blonde's shoulder, pulling him away.  "Barton, Chang, get away from it now, it could be an explosive."

Quatre, however, dug in his heels, resisting his lover by widening his stance to make it harder to manhandle him.  His empathy was acting up again, this time being more useful.  Whatever was inside the poor bird was not a danger to them, but it was important.  "It's not a bomb.  Wufei, give me your knife."  And when the Chinese man didn't immediately comply:  "I know you have one."

Wufei looked questioningly at Heero.  Quatre's jaw tightened, and he held out his hand in a clear command.  Finally, the dark-eyed man reached into his boot and pulled out a long blade.  Quatre took it, and then went to stand in front of Trowa.  The tall pilot hesitated, his arm tightening protectively over the limp bird, than relaxing suddenly as he silently handed it over.

Quatre cradled it gently, then placed it on the dresser table, putting his body in Trowa's line of sight, hoping, mostly futilely, to spare him what he would have to do next.  The blonde held the knife over the bird's body, and with the precision of a surgeon, delicately slid the blade underneath the stitches, snapping them one by one until he reached the mysterious protrusion.  He then efficiently spread the chest cavity and carefully pried out the gore-covered object.

Without being asked, Wufei went to the bathroom and got Quatre a couple of towels.  He used one to carefully cover the bird's body, shrouding it so that all could be seen was a small lump.  The other towel he used to wipe off the item.

It was a mini-communicator.

Holding it so that they could all see, Quatre flipped a switch on the side.  The small screen on the front turned on, a picture resolving itself out of the blankness.  Quatre stiffened.

It was Duo.

He was in a small, featureless gray room.  The American was up to his waist in water, the end of his long braid trailing in it.  As they watched, he splashed over to one of the walls, turning his head so that his face was visible to the camera.  Duo looked murderous.  He shouted something inaudible at the ceiling.  Quatre would bet money that it had something to do with his captor's animal ancestry, probably something less than flattering about their mother.  But despite the façade of smart-ass bravado, Quatre knew Duo well enough to see that he was scared.  The camera zoomed in on his face, giving a clear shot of wide violet eyes, before going blank.

"Duo!"  The blonde screamed at the now disturbingly dark communicator.

His cry was heard, as a voice crackled to life over the small machine.  "My oh my, this is a desperate situation."  The voice was male, cultured, and practically dripping with malice.  "By my estimation, the room will fill completely with water in exactly 3 hours and 11 minutes.  He'll drown then, though maybe it will take a couple of minutes more.  It all depends on how long he can hold his breath."

Out of the corner of his eye, Quatre saw Heero set his watch.  "What do you want?"

"Tisk, what an unoriginal question.  I expected better of you, Quatre Raberba Winner.  What I want, dear boy is for you to follow my instructions."

 The blonde frowned.  "How do I know he's not already dead?"

"You just saw him.  Do you doubt your eyes?"

"This device doesn't have direct video capabilities.  You recorded this some time ago.  You can't see us, we can't see you, and you can't show us Duo as he is now."

There was a pause.

"You clever, clever boy.  But actually, you're only partially right.  _I_ see all.

Quatre's jaw tightened.  "I'll ask you again.  What assurance do we have that he's still alive?"

There was a rich chuckle.  "None.  You'll just have to trust me.  I spoke the truth about his 3 hours and 11 minutes, oh excuse me, 3 hours and 9 minutes."

Quatre glared at the communicator and the hateful voice it was broadcasting.  They had no choice.  He could see his thoughts reflected in the faces of his friends.  None of them would leave Duo if there were even a chance that he was still alive.  "What do you want us to do?"

"Actually, it's what I want _you_ to do.  You will follow my directions exactly, and if you're fast enough, you'll be in time to rescue your friend.  I think it's time we met face to face, don't you?  No authorities, of course.  Though as a gesture of my goodwill, I'll even allow you to bring along the angry Chinese boy."

Wufei bristled.

"If I see even a shadow that resembles your other companions, he will die.  I'll contact you again shortly."  The communicator shut off.

"Who does this idiot think he is?"  Wufei started angrily.  "I'm going to shove my katana so far up his . . . "  Quatre held out his hand for silence, cutting the irate young man off mid-sentence.

The blonde turned to Heero.  His lips began to move, but no sound emerged.  His lover's lips were trained on his mouth, following his silent explanation.  _He's got video surveillance with both audio and visual capabilities.  But he's not yet aware that I know.  We need to go someplace where he can't monitor us, and we have to do it without tipping him off._

Heero did nothing to give away their game.  Instead he made careful conversation, leading them all back to his and Quatre's room under the pretense of getting the two who were to go ready.  Trowa and Wufei caught on quickly, and followed.

Once back indoors, Heero scored the room, quickly finding the cameras.  He led them all to the bedroom, where there was only one device.  Continuing to discuss other matters, he sat Quatre down behind his hack-proofed laptop, with the screen facing away from the camera.

Quatre typed.  _Not only has he tapped into resort surveillance, he's added some of his own._

Heero leaned over the blonde, pretending to help him search for potential enemies among Preventer files.  _You're not going in blind._

Quatre shoved Heero out of the way, pretending that his worry over Duo's safety was causing him to snap at his boyfriend.  He typed again.  _I won't be._

**Notes:**  I have to say, this chapter has been frustrating with a capital "F," and the rest of the story doesn't look to be any better.  So I would really appreciate some feedback and/or ideas.  I'm not sure about the realism of the interaction between the characters (are they OOC?) or their personalities.  The animosity between Quatre and Wufei surprised even me, and the only character whose head I feel I got inside of was Duo's.

Diane:  I hate to say this, but I just can't leave you falsely hopeful.  It's too cruel.  Zechs won't be making an appearance in this story.  For all I know, he's off to Mars again with Noin.  Sorry!

Laurel-Crowned:  Um, yeah, I'm being a little mean to poor Duo, and this chapter probably didn't change your opinion.  Just keep this in mind:  GreenLady is a big believer in the happy ending.

And, before I get flamed for animal cruelty:

No birds were harmed in the making of this story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:**   Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and other people who aren't me.  I make no money off of this little endeavor.

**Warnings:**  Same as usual:  yaoi, violence, and sexual situations.  If you don't like it or are too young (physically _or_ mentally) please, don't read it!

Chapter 5 

"Which way?"

Quatre paused and consulted the blank screen of the communicator secured to his wrist.  It only took a few seconds for a picture to form.  "Right," the blonde said briskly, suiting actions to words and leading the way into the new corridor.  Wufei followed with a great deal more caution, dark eyes peeled for traps.

They had been doing this for nearly ten minutes, each aware with the delay that time was running out for Duo.  The cameras bolted to the walls tracked their progress, and every time they reached a fork in the path, Quatre would look at the now much less gory communicator and wait for their mysterious enemy to give directions.  Consequently, the two ex-pilots found themselves heading deeper and deeper into the core of the Emerald Sphere Resort, a place where no one but maintenance workers dared to tread.  The guests were kept on the earth-like surface, but if any were to ever wander down where Wufei and Quatre walked, they would see a very different place.  Here the trappings of nature had been ruthlessly kept away.  The underground of the resort was a maze of long metal corridors; bisecting each other frequently and creating a man made skeleton.  It was creepy and sterile-feeling, reminding Quatre unpleasantly of the labs underneath the now dead Everett Orth's house.

At the next pause for directions Wufei took point.  Quatre glared at his back but said nothing, deciding it wasn't worth getting in a fight over.  At least not quite yet.  Instead the blonde fixed his eyes on the dark knife hilt poking out of the top of Wufei's white shirt.  Heero and Trowa had fit them with what weaponry they had before leaving.  For a group supposedly on vacation, (and one who had gone through airport security) there had been quite a bit.  Heero's gun and Wufei's daggers weren't much of a surprise; those two would go armed to their own funerals.  

But Trowa's collection of low-grade explosives had been something of a shock.  

When questioned, the tall boy had muttered something about Duo and toilet seats, and then brilliantly changed the subject by asking Quatre why _he_ had a knife made out of gundanium when he was yelling at them for bringing weapons on vacation.

Not wanting to explain about sentimental value and Sandrock, the blonde had let the subject drop.

They rounded a corner, and Wufei's shoulders suddenly tensed.  Quatre looked up ahead to see what had caught his attention.  

They appeared to have reached a dead end.  A seamless metal wall blocked any further progress.  "Now what?"  Wufei muttered irritably.  He turned and glared directly into the surveillance camera secured in the top corner and raised his voice, addressing whoever was watching.  "Is this supposed to be funny?"

Nothing happened for several tense moments.  Then, with a soft noise, the supposedly seamless wall slid to the side.  Quatre looked at the newly revealed room with raised eyebrows.  "Excellent craftsmanship," he murmured softly, regarding the sliding mechanical door appreciatively.

Wufei snorted.  "A well-built maze makes an even better trap for unwary rats."

Ignoring him, Quatre brushed past Wufei into the exposed room.  It was obviously a control room of some sort; button embedded panels lined the walls, and a foot-long patch of wires burst weed-like from one of them.  The blonde regarded the wires with a practiced eye; chances were good that they were connected to the Resort's main computer system.  

On the far side of this new room, another door whirred open.  The message was clear; the gundam pilots were to head through it into a new passageway.  Quatre glanced back at Wufei, lifting his head slightly to the camera above them.  Then, without another glance for his teammate, the blonde stepped forward for the new door.

A hand shot out, gripping Quatre's forearm harshly.  "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?"  The blonde said, voice dripping with irritation.

"It could be a trap."

"We have to take that chance.  Duo only has a little over 2 hours left."

"You're not going through that door first," Wufei said coldly, releasing the grip on his arm and starting to move past Quatre.  

The blonde replaced the Chinese boy's hold with one of his own.  "Why the hell not?"

Wufei looked down coldly at the pale hand on his arm.  "Don't be stupid."

Bluish-green eyes narrowed.  "Stupid?  I can take care of myself, Wufei.  Against you, or anyone else."  

For a second there was silence from the other boy.  Then, a sudden blur of motion and Quatre found his grip broken as Wufei sent him skidding across the floor on his butt, only stopping when his back collided with the patch of computer wires and the more solid wall behind them.  He let out a soft grunt of surprise at the impact.  

There was a pause, and then Quatre's hands moved, untangling him from the wires and looking up from the floor to glare at Wufei, who was now looming over him.  "Don't push me Quatre.  You can't win."

Their gazes locked.  Real angry simmered in the depths of the blonde's aquamarine eyes, and a brief look of uncertainty crossed the Chinese pilot's features before they stilled back into stolid disapproval.  Quatre ducked his head, and when he glanced up again his expression was completely different.  His eyes were too wide, and they flinched back slightly from Wufei's glare, avoiding contact.

He looked thoroughly cowed. 

Wufei continued to stare down at him, and then he held out his hand.  "Come on, we can't waste time."

The blonde ignored the proffered help, instead pushing his arms back into the wires, using the wall behind them to lever himself up.  Getting to his feet, he gestured toward the door for the Chinese boy to precede him, still not making eye contact.

Wufei stared at him, resisting the urge to glance up at the camera.  Finally he headed through the door, arms loosely held at his sides in preparation for whatever might jump out at them.  Nothing happened, and they continued along their directed path.

Soon, they came to a long, suspended steel bridge.  Both boys studied it carefully.  It was thin, the criss-crossed metal only about two feet wide.  A flimsy appearing railing adorned the sides, the only thing between the crosser and the dark abysses that plunged down sharply to either side.  Wufei turned and looked at Quatre.  "I'll go across first," he said curtly.

The blonde turned to him sharply.  "What if it isn't stable?"

"I'll find out.  It might not hold the weight of two," Wufei said coolly, moving forward to step onto the bridge.  Quatre's hand twitched at his side, an unconscious reaction as he fought the urge to grab the other boy's arm and physically keep him from continuing.  Aware of their unseen watcher, he successfully managed to remain still.

Wufei's foot tested the edge of the bridge, then, after it held, he cautiously shifted his other foot onto it and began to walk across.  He moved slowly and carefully, ears peeled for the slightest warning creak that the construct wasn't up to holding the weight of one slight young man.  So far everything seemed fine, and Quatre began to relax, eyes briefly leaving the figure on the bridge to scan their surroundings for trouble.

Then he felt it.  Someone was darkly, wickedly, amused.  The blonde's gaze snapped back to the bridge and Wufei, who had made it to the center.  He knew something was about to happen, and opened his mouth to scream a warning.

Too little, much too late.

There was a loud squealing noise, and the bridge just sort of _parted_, swinging to the side with a whir of gears, and causing Wufei to grab onto the flimsy banisters for dear life.  Quatre could only watch in horror as the bridge, doing a complete one-eighty, crashed into the entrance at the other side.  Wufei lost his grip on the railing and was sent sailing through the air to impact with the wall of the new corridor.  He slid limply to the floor.

"Wufei!"  Quatre screamed, sparing a minute to thank Allah that he hadn't fallen down into the pit.  But as it was, he was lying awfully still on the other side . . .

A loud groan drifted across the expanse that separated them, and Quatre nearly sagged in relief to see his teammate lever himself off the floor.  "Are you okay?"  The blonde shouted across the gulf.

Wufei got to his feet slowly, favoring his right arm.  "I'll be fine," he said quietly, then repeated it a little louder so that Quatre could hear him.  He wobbled over to his half of the broken bridge and looked down at it.  "Someone did that on purpose.  No way would the bridge have fallen like this if it had collapsed naturally.  I would have been at the bottom of that pit right now."

Quatre resisted the urge to shout "no duh!"  Instead he just nodded.  "Now where are we supposed to go?"

An answer was provided.  Quatre started in alarm as he heard a noise behind him.  Another door that had supposedly been nothing but a wall had swooshed open.  The blonde studied it for a second, than glanced over at Wufei.

Who was glaring at him.

"Don't even think about it Quatre.  If you give me some time, I should be able to get back across, or maybe find another way over to you."

Quatre shook his head.  "We don't have any excess time Wufei.  I'm going."

"No you are not!"

Blonde eyebrows rose.  "What are you going to do stop me?  You're all the way over there."

Wufei swore, and Quatre smiled.  "Hurry up and get across Wufei.  I'll see you when you catch up."  He turned and headed through the new door, ignoring the curses that followed after him.

Elsewhere, a shadowy figure stared thoughtfully at a monitor.  Delicately pressing several buttons, he followed the progress of the solitary blonde on the screen.  Thin lips curved into a slight, amused smile as the watcher turned his attention to another monitor, where an irritated Chinese boy shouted obscenities across a bridgeless pit.  He stared thoughtfully for a second, and then fingers danced over keys quickly, opening doors on Wufei's side of the complex, laying out the angry boy's path.  Once he calmed down, the boy would find that he only had one direction to go.

The watcher's small smirk grew as it turned to a third monitor.  Here, a young man with a long chestnut braid splashed through waist-high water.  He reached one of the walls, and began running his hands over it desperately.  It was useless; he had already been over that side four times, but apparently it wasn't in this one's nature to give up gracefully.  The man drummed his fingers against his chair, humming softly under his breath.

Things were falling into place nicely.

_Right again_.  Lifting his eyes from the transmitter, Quatre turned and faced the seemingly solid wall.  But by now the blonde was accustomed to the changeable face of the maze (a maze with Duo as the cheese), and so he merely waited patiently, eyebrows raised in clear expectation at the camera.  Soon, the metal-gray wall parted into a doorway.

But this time, Quatre hesitated.  He raised the gun in his right hand to cover the doorway, while his left rose up absently to rub at his chest.  His empathy was picking up things from the enemy again.  He could sense the disturbing emotion of anticipatory glee associated with this new room.

Quatre moved forward cautiously, stopping in the door.  That way, if it tried to close on him, he could either jump back or ahead.  He scanned the suspiciously featureless room carefully, than turned his head so that he could study the door mechanism.  Frowning thoughtfully, and not satisfied with a visual inspection, the blonde ran his hands along the frame.  His eyes widened in sudden understanding.  _So that's it_.

No longer hesitating, Quatre calmly walked forward, his footsteps echoing ominously.  He wasn't surprised when he heard the door slam tightly behind him.  But, aware of being watched, he whirled around as if startled.  There wasn't another exit; the blonde was trapped.  He knew he was taking a risk, but if he was right . . .

The room was eerily calm, but Quatre wasn't fooled.  The hateful presence in the back of his mind was still eagerly anticipating something.

A slight sound, and the blonde's head turned, staring without surprise at the tiny holes that had appeared in the wall.  A cloudy white gas leaked out with a slight hissing noise.

Quatre staggered, falling to his knees as he got a whiff of the gas, the gun clattering from his suddenly nerveless fingers.  His head spun dizzyingly, and a voice in his head, one that sounded strangely similar to a certain Chinese pilot he knew, swore angrily and called him a fool.  _Sorry Wufei_, he thought, just before blacking out, _calculated risk_.

**Notes:**  And now for some massive feedback response.  Skip it if you'd like, it's just another chance for me to run off at the mouth.

Diane:  "Big Bad," huh?  Clearly I'm not the only one who watches Buffy.  And have I told you lately how much I adore your reviews?

Mookie:  I love Quatre and Duo's relationship too.  I've recently developed quite a thing for them together, even if it's not "together," together.

AngeloftheDesert:  *Blinks*  Horrible Frying Pan of Unspeakable Doom?  Well, um, I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Laurel-Crowned:  How _are_ they going to find Duo?  *Whistles innocently and walks away*

Mistal:  Dark Angel of the Abyss:  Thanks, I really appreciate the offer, but doubt I'll be needing any actual French.  I'm glad you're enjoying this.

CJ:  Faulty stuff, huh?  Is this frustration enough for ya?

Fabi-chan:  I didn't stop writing, see?  And the next chapter won't take as long to get out, Boy Scout's honor.  (Don't ask).

KNW:  Glad you think it works.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:**   Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and other people who aren't me.  I make no money off of this little endeavor.

**Warnings:**  Same as usual:  yaoi, violence, and sexual situations.  If you don't like it or are too young (physically _or_ mentally) please, don't read it!

**Author Notes:  **Major thanks to Willowbranch, who is a great beta reader _and _managed to save me from a potentially embarrassing Freudian slip.  (Willowbranch – I refuse to be held responsible for what my subconscious does, but I guess now we both know what I really wanted to write).

Chapter 6 

The first sound to intrude on Quatre's consciousness was an irritating, continuous beeping.  After all the time he had spent in hospitals, it sounded familiar.  _A heart monitor?_  He thought groggily.

He opened scratchy eyes, than tried to lift an arm to rub at them.

_Tried_ being the operative word.

Blinking groggily, his gaze traveled up his arm, past the communicator still strapped to his wrist, until he could see his hand.  _Well, that explains it_, he thought sardonically.  There was a strap secured around his wrist.  He turned his head to the other side, not terribly surprised to see an identical strap there, too.  A glance down confirmed that his ankles were also secured, the result being that Quatre was strapped full-length to what appeared to be an operating table, its metal chilly against his bare back.  His shirt had been removed and several wires sprung from his chest, stuck to the skin with round pieces of hospital tape.  The wires connected him to the monitor.  The noise that had dragged him from unconsciousness had been the beating of his own heart.

There was a second machine beside the first.  Quatre recognized this one as a monitor measuring his brain waves.  He could feel the wires connecting him to it on his temple. 

Craning his neck at an uncomfortable angle, the blonde finally took in the rest of his surroundings.  He was in the center of a drab, sterile-feeling room.  There were white walls and a gray floor; the only shocks of color came from his own hair and a brightly plumaged bird caged in contrast to the otherwise tepid white wall in front of him.  The creature hopped from its perch to the wire mesh of its cage, cocking its head inquisitively at the bound boy.  For a second, aquamarine eyes locked with beady black, and the bird chirped quietly, as if in sympathy.

A noise distracted him from his pity party with the scarlet tanager, and Quatre craned his head in the other direction as he heard footsteps approaching.  A man stepped into his line of vision.

He was a tall man with wild brown hair and a scruffy beard; obviously neither had been trimmed in a long while.  His body was adorned in a white lab coat that hung grotesquely off of his emancipated frame, and piercing, pale blue eyes burned in their sockets.  Taken all together, the man reminded Quatre of a scarecrow, the kind that could be seen in old horror films.  Its victim would see nothing but a harmless, inanimate object, until it moved and ripped their entrails out.

The blonde had never seen this man before in his life.  He wouldn't have forgotten someone that scary.  He was as ugly as Dr. H.

The man's mouth twisted, (it was either a smile or a sneer, Quatre couldn't tell which through the nest of unkempt beard).  "Welcome to my home, Mr. Winner."  His voice was a disturbing contrast with his appearance, smooth and rich, not the animal-like growl that was expected.  It was the same cultured voice that had led him here.

Quatre studied him, debating with himself for a second on how to respond.  Finally he nodded cautiously.  "I can't say that it's a pleasure, Mr. . . .?"  He trailed off and looked at the man expectantly.

"Morris, Ivan Morris."

The name didn't ring any bells in the blonde's memory.  "I'm sorry Mr. Morris, have we met before?"

"Not directly Mr. Winner, but I have been wanting to meet with you for a long time."  His voice stayed light and unconcerned as he added the next part.  "Ever since you murdered my wife."

Quatre's eyes widened, momentarily speechless.  He stared at the man in front of him, than replied in the same calm tone.  "I'm sorry again Mr. Morris, but I can't recall your wife."  He waited for Ivan to fly into a rage.

But there was no reaction that extreme forthcoming.  "That's not at all unexpected.  You've killed so many; I wouldn't expect you to remember them all.  My wife was a scientist, you see.  She worked on a small satellite you blew up.  I believe shortly after that you also destroyed a colony, so I'm not surprised the satellite left so miniscule of an impression."

Quatre felt a sudden painful knot form in his stomach.  The events Morris was referring to had happened when the zero system had driven him crazy, or rather, when the death of his father had unhinged him.  Technically the zero system had only exacerbated the problem, as he had found out during the whole fiasco with Everett Orth and the Red Formula.

Ivan moved behind Quatre and pushed a cluttered rolling table forward into his line of vision.  He picked up a clipboard and studied the papers on it thoughtfully.  "I took the liberty of taking some x-rays while you were out.  It's absolutely fascinating.  Your brainwaves are highly abnormal.  Even more so after being injected with the Red Formula."

"You know about that?"

"Oh of course.  My wife and I developed the preliminary batch together.  Then the war had the unfortunate timing to end and I was left without any funding to continue our life's work.  Until Everett Orth came along, that is."

Quatre stiffened.  "You worked for Orth?"

"I wouldn't really put it like that.  It was more like we had a mutually beneficial partnership, and I rather enjoyed having a partner that was so close to your family.  Though I was terribly upset with him for almost killing you.  He had promised I would be given that privilege.  But it all works out in the end.  I rather like the idea of using you as a test subject for a drug created by the woman you killed.  I know she would have enjoyed studying the results, and I hope you can appreciate the irony.  After all, your case is so unique."

The scarlet tanager chirped in the corner, and Quatre's eyes were drawn to the little animal.  "What's with the birds?"

Morris followed his gaze.  "They're here for purely sentimental reasons.  They were my wife's favorite animals to experiment on.  She thought mice were terribly blasé."  

Quatre was beginning to lose any guilt he had for accidentally killing the woman.  She sounded like she was as much of a monster as her husband.  "So, what exactly are you planning on doing with me?"

"Hmm?"  The bearded man lifted his head from the chart he had been studying.  "Oh, I'll have to run some more tests to find out exactly why my lovely formula had such an unexpected effect on you.  I'm sure they'll all be quite painful for you.  But before we start that I have something else planned." 

Morris picked up a small remote from the table and aimed it at the wall in front of Quatre.  A section of it parted to the side, revealing a set of darkened monitors.  He pressed another button and a picture flashed on.  

Quatre couldn't help the small gasp that escaped.  It was Duo.  He was floating in a room full of water, clinging desperately to the ceiling and the half-foot of air that was left there.

"He only has about ten minutes left before the room fills completely.  Then it will all come down to how long he can hold his breath."

Quatre's hands tightened into fists within their restraints.  Morris's communicator dug painfully into one of his wrists.  "Why are you doing this?  I'm the only one responsible for your wife's death."

"Yes you are.  Which is why this is so fitting.  You can watch your lover die.  Just try and live without like I have."

Quatre blinked in surprise.  "He's not . . ."  The blonde shut his mouth abruptly.  He wasn't sure how Morris had gotten Duo mixed up with Heero as his boyfriend.  He certainly wasn't the first to think that something was going on between them.  Maybe Wufei was right about the appearance of their relationship seeming less than platonic.  Either way, Quatre sensed there was nothing he could say to convince the madman to let either of them go.

Morris pushed another button, causing the picture on the monitor to change.  This time it showed a familiar figure walking cautiously into a drab room.  Quatre winced when he recognized the short black ponytail. 

Wufei was heading for the opposite exit when both the doors slid shut, trapping him inside a featureless box.  The blonde couldn't hear what he was saying, but his lips were definitely moving in what Quatre thought were probably elaborate curses.

Though Quatre's eyes were glued to the screen, he could _feel_ the glee emanating from Morris with his empathy.

A loud beeping above Quatre's head startled them both away from Wufei's onscreen predicament.  Morris walked over to the machine measuring the blonde's brain waves and stared in astonishment.  "This can't be right," he muttered, "your brain waves are peaking."  Quatre craned his head up to get a look at the monitor.  One of the lines across the screen kept fluctuating into a sharp spiked shape.  As he watched, it settled down to normal (or as normal as his mind got) and the machine quieted.  He turned to glance at Morris, and the man was frowning.  Finally the white-lab coated shoulders moved in a shrug.  "Must have been a malfunction.  I'll have to figure it out later."  It seemed he didn't want to be distracted from his fun.

He turned back to the live picture of Wufei, which was just as well because Quatre might not have been able to hide the light of realization that suddenly filled his face.  _The spiking of his brain waves had coincided exactly with the onset of his empathy, and they had stopped as soon as he had stopped feeling Ivan's emotions._  The blonde was beginning to wonder if the Red Formula was responsible for his increased abilities.  Or maybe because of Ivan Morris's connections with its creation, he had some kind of increased sensitivity to the other man.  Either way now was not the time to think about it.  Quatre firmly pushed all speculations to the back of his mind and focused his attention back to the events at hand, mainly Wufei on the monitor. 

And stared in horror as a strange green-tinged gas jetted into the room with the Chinese boy.  

It was similar to his previous situation, but the gas was the wrong color.  As if reading his mind, Morris began to speak.  "It's poisonous of course.  I don't really have a need for this one, and he's clearly more dangerous than you are.  It's actually rather ironic.  One room to the south of his location is directly above your lover's water trap.  He's so close.  To bad he'll be dead in a couple of minutes."

While Morris was gloating Wufei had been trying both doors.  Quatre could see they were locked tight, and the Chinese ex-pilot had apparently come to the same conclusion.  But instead of panicking he was settling himself on the floor, looking for all the world like he was about to take a nap.  The blonde stared uncomprehendingly for a moment at the strange actions before finally getting it.  He turned away from the monitor, deliberately no longer looking.  Instead he carefully schooled his face before turning his attention to the enemy.  "Is this supposed to upset me?"  Quatre asked calmly, voice bored.

His captor's gaze left the screen and focused on the blonde.  Penetrating blue eyes regarded him thoughtfully.  Then Morris chuckled.  "No, I suppose this one's death wouldn't bother you much, except as a lost chance to save your lover.  You two certainly don't seem to get along."

Quatre shrugged indifferently.  "Not particularly.  Wufei is a hot-headed bully."

"Ah, of course.  I saw his violent actions with you on the way here.  Most uncouth.  I'm not surprised he frightens you."

Quatre molded his features into an expression of disbelief, but didn't make eye contact so it appeared Morris had hit the nail on the head.  "That's ridiculous!"

The wild-haired man laughed richly, and once again the blonde was struck by the contrast between his voice and appearance.  "I saw you after he pushed you.  Don't try to lie to me young man.  I'm much more intelligent than you are.  Besides, you should really direct your fear toward the real danger."  The beard moved in what was probably a smile.  "Me."

Morris glanced back up at the screen and the prostrate Wufei, snorting in disgust.  "Looks like he didn't last as long as I thought he would.  It's time to move onto more interesting entertainments, don't you agree?"  He turned back so that they could see Duo again.  The water was inches away from the ceiling.

Duo's palms pressed against the ceiling as he treaded water desperately, trying to keep his balance in order to keep his nose above the rising water.

Duo had decided that this was one of the top ten worst ways to die.  It gave him way too much time to think.  He had always figured it would be quick.  Maybe a sniper shot to the head or an explosion that would blow him to bits, not this slow march to death.  It gave a man time to think about his regrets.

And Duo was beginning to realize that he had a lot of those.

For example, someday he had been planning on taking guitar lessons.  Then maybe he could have joined Quatre and Trowa in one of their frequent duets, or if he had never gotten that good he could have at least annoyed the crap out of Wufei.  Either way it was a worthy goal.  

The bad thing about having a "someday" was that it could turn into "never" at the drop of a homicidal madman.

Duo figured that the person behind this would probably qualify as a homicidal madman type, or maybe it was a madwoman.  He was an equal opportunity ex-terrorist himself.

The fact that his last thoughts were this irrelevant was depressing.  He had always kind of figured the onset of death would make his thinking profound and full of wisdom, but no such luck.

The water was very close to the ceiling now, it lapped tauntingly at his mouth, ready to move that last inch.  With the onset of death, Duo had to admit to himself that there was one thing he would regret more than anything else.

Never having been with someone.

He wanted what Quatre and Heero had.  A relationship, a partnership, the chance to just _be_ with another person.  It wasn't just that he had never been in love; it was that he hadn't even tried.  He should have let others know that he was interested.  He should have tried to build something with Q after they survived the war, not that he begrudged Yuy his happiness with blondie.  He shouldn't have pushed Trowa away, and he shouldn't have just run away when he saw Wufei and him together.  Duo didn't know what have would happened if he would have stayed to talk, but at least then something would have been resolved, and he wouldn't be regretting now.

That was the worst thing about regrets, they were a person's own damned fault.

Duo was almost out of air.  He took a deep breath and then held it as the water closed over his head.  He floated underneath the water with his braid slowly unraveling behind him, as if the tendrils themselves were searching for something.  He could probably hold his breath for about six minutes, but then it would all be over.  No more regretting.

And no more hope.

Sometimes, Duo wished he believed in a kinder god then Death.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:**   Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and other people who aren't me.  And of course, I wouldn't dream of profiting off of other people's toys.  Well, okay, I can dream.  But that's all, I swear!

**Warnings:**  Same as usual:  yaoi, violence, and sexual situations, as if you didn't know this by now.  

Chapter 7 

Duo's lungs burned.

It was a ridiculous feeling considering he was drowning.  All he had to do to stop the burning was open his mouth and take a big gulp of water.  But that would be bad, really bad.  He pounded against the ceiling; even now he had a hard time giving up on life.  He had always been a survivor.

Until today.

Black spots danced across his vision, but his life wasn't flashing before his eyes.  It was probably just as well.

His legs had been kicking frantically but now were slowing, until he stopped moving all together.  He just floated, braid unraveled behind him like a funeral veil as violet eyes closed.  The pressure on his chest was too much.  He opened his mouth.

The water rushing into his lungs was almost a relief.

Quatre's heart stopped as Duo went still.  _Oh no.  Please no!  This can't happen, it can't!  Duo, hold on for just a little longer, hold on!_

Quatre _reached _for him.

Not physically of course.  He was still strapped down full-length.  He reached empathically.  The machine measuring his brain waves went crazy, beeping shrilly, but he didn't hear it, or notice Morris hurrying over to check it.

He was with Duo, who was dying.  Quatre could feel the darkness closing in on him, closing in on the tiny, wavering spark of light that was his best friend.  He reached for that light, and felt Duo.  _You won't be alone.  I promise._  He held on tight, realizing that the darkness would devour them both.  He couldn't bring himself to care.

For a second Quatre felt the heart and mind of his best friend regarding him, and then a response of emotions from Duo.   They formed one word.

_No._

And he pushed Quatre back into his own body, away from the devouring dark.

Back on the operating table, Quatre's eyes flew open.  His gaze sought the monitor, and he let out a choked cry as he saw the limp body floating listlessly in the water.

That was when he felt a slight rumbling vibration, as if somebody had set off a low-grade explosive.  The room shook slightly, and Quatre quickly lifted his head back to the screen and Duo.  A crack had appeared along the ceiling, and then a section broke away and floated into the water.  A pair of hands plunged down right afterwards and closed around Duo's hair, the only part of him still within reach, pulling him up and out of the water by the long strands.

The hands and Duo disappeared out of camera range.

"No!"  The angry scream came from Morris, who stared at the screen in incomprehension, before quickly grabbing up the controller and changing the scene back to Wufei's cell.

Which was empty.

Quatre's hands were clenched into tight fists.  _Please let it not be too late_, he prayed silently and frantically.  

He glanced at Morris.  His scarecrow body was trembling like he was having some kind of apoplectic fit.  He turned slowly to stare at the blonde.  The man's pale eyes were burning with thwarted rage; his expression was more than a little homicidal.  It didn't get any better when Quatre met his furious gaze.  The blonde's expression was tight and deadly.  If Wufei hadn't been in time . . .

Ivan snarled, finally a sound that fit his appearance.  He stalked behind Quatre and then came back with a sharp, gleaming surgical knife.  The blonde was realizing that he had better start worrying about himself and put his comrades out of mind for the moment.  "I don't know how you did it," Morris hissed wildly, "but don't think I'll let this go unpunished.  I can study your brain just as well when it's out of your body."  He lowered the sharp implement to Quatre's forehead; fully intending on cutting the brain out while the blonde was still alive and able to feel everything.

Suddenly he screamed and dropped the knife, backing several steps away from the blonde.  He was cradling his hand to his chest, and for good reason.  A throwing dagger was sticking out of the center of his palm.  Quatre whipped his head up to the spot the weapon had been thrown from.

Trowa was here.

Morris stared incredulously at the tall, knife-wielding young man on the other side of the room.  "How . . . how did you get here?!"  

It was more of an accusation than a question, but Quatre answered him anyway.  "You picked the wrong people to fuck with."  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trowa start slightly at the uncharacteristically coarse language.  "We fixed the communicator up so that it was no longer just capable of sending one way."  He pulled slightly on the wrist the device was still strapped on for emphasis.  "My partners have heard and seen everything you've said and done.  You gave us Duo's location.  We also installed a tracker inside this so they could find me."

"But how did the Chinese boy get out of that trap?  It's impossible!"  He glared into green eyes across the room accusingly.

Trowa snorted.  "Did you really think that my teammates would have had a fight with the enemy watching?"

Quatre smiled coldly.  "That's why Wufei pushed me into the wires in the control room." Though Quatre thought he hadn't needed to push quite so hard.  It had been a childish way for Wufei to express his anger over personal matters.   "We knew they were connected to the main controls.  I planted a device that allowed a friend of ours to hack into your computers.  He gained control of the door and let him out."  This, of course, had taken a little bit of time, and so Wufei had meditated to conserve his air until Heero could open the door.  It was the same thing he had done when he and Duo had been trapped on the moon base and the oxygen had been shut off.

Ivan's pale blue eyes were narrowed into tiny puddles of rage.  His face was jerking in helpless little fits, and Quatre wouldn't have been at all surprised if he started foaming at the mouth.  Trowa was walking wearily over to them, eyes firmly fixed on the enemy with a dagger held ready in his fist.  Not liking the expression on the crazy man's face, Quatre tried to forestall any problems Morris might decide to cause Trowa.  "Try and give up gracefully Mr. Morris.  You've lost, and there's no where to go."

The pale eyes jerked from the advancing Trowa to the bound blonde.  Apparently, it had been the wrong thing to say.  The pale eyes were calm again, and a small unsettling smirk graced his mouth underneath the beard.  Quatre tensed.  He no longer felt rage leaking off of him; he was disturbingly calm, which was very bad.  An angry enemy had a tendency to not think and make mistakes, but now Morris had regained the ability to think clearly, and he had just gotten a lot more dangerous. 

He slowly lifted his arms above his head in an unmistakable gesture of surrender, but he was still smirking.  Quatre pulled futilely at his bonds, realizing that something was about to happen.  "Trowa!  He's going to . . ."   He never even got to finish his sentence.  Morris lunged backwards, moving surprisingly fast for such a dilapidated individual.  Trowa threw his second knife, but because of Ivan's unexpected move done on the tail of surrendering he only managed to sink the dagger into their enemy's shoulder.  It didn't seem to faze him one bit.  He grabbed the same remote he had been using to control the cameras and pressed something.

Suddenly Trowa was too busy trying to dodge the newly activated laser beams to stop the man from leaving through another hidden door.

Wufei breathed into Duo's mouth, then placed his palms on the soggy chest and pushed down in a rhythmic pattern.  He repeated the process, cursing the other boy fervently in Chinese for not responding.  But one of Wufei's major traits was stubbornness, (third on the list after cantankerous and belligerent), and he wasn't going to give up on his fool of a friend and love interest that easily.

He leaned down, breathing into Duo again, who suddenly gasped and choked and spit up water all over his savior's face.  

Wufei quickly pulled him into an upright sitting position, making it easier for the water to leave his friend's lungs as he coughed it up.  He rubbed his back soothingly, still muttering in Chinese, only this time it wasn't swearing.  As the coughing died down, he pulled Duo to rest against himself, back to chest, so he had an improvised chair.  He was completely heedless of the water that was soaking into his own clothes in the places they were touching.

Duo rested this way for a minute, just enjoying the ability to breath again.  He felt strange, and he had the oddest feeling that Quatre had just been with him.  Which was impossible, of course.  Frowning, he shook his head weakly before finally speaking, voice hoarse.  "Thanks 'Fei," he took a breath and fell into another fit of coughing, feeling arms coming around him from behind.  "So," he began again painfully, trying to inject his tone with weak humor, "it must be nice having me quiet for once, huh?"  His grin was sickly, but that was soon changed into an expression of astonishment as Wufei grabbed his chin and tugged his head around so that they would have been facing each other if not for the awkward angle.  His eyes widened and completed the expression as the Chinese boy covered his lips in a fervent kiss, a little bit clumsy because of the way they were sitting, but infused with so many emotions that it didn't really matter. 

For a second Duo felt like he was drowning all over again, but this time it was a way he wouldn't mind going.

Wufei finally pulled away, realizing that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to obstruct Duo's air passages right now.  "We've been going about this all wrong," he murmured huskily into the other pilot's ear.  "Neither Trowa nor I meant to hurt you.  After this is over, we all need to sit down and talk.  I'm not letting you run away this time either."  

Duo stared at Wufei dumbly for a minute before slowly nodding his head.  Almost dying did wonders for a man's perspective, and although he wasn't really sure what Wufei was talking about, he was feeling pretty forgiving right now and more than willing to listen.  Of course, a lot of that could be blamed on the kiss.  Not many men were able to think straight when it came to sex.

But whether Little Duo was in charge right now or not wasn't really the ex-pilot's first priority, as the American found out once Wufei began to explain exactly what had been going on.

Duo was only given a couple more minutes to recover, than they headed out to rejoin their comrades.

After all, Duo didn't want to give the jerk another chance to try and off him.  Experience had taught him that villains could be annoyingly persistent.

Trowa did a quick flip backwards, the laser beam just missed singeing his bang.  He dodged and weaved through the threads of dangerous red light, trying to figure out exactly where they were coming from.

"Tro-wa!"  The panicked call came from Quatre who was still tied down.  A beam was traveling at him straight on, deviating from the pattern of the other lasers in a disturbingly deliberate manner, coming at him between his bound legs with a very bad destination apparently in mind. 

The tall young man could see why the blonde was getting a little panicked; castration was every man's worst fear.  Between darting through the deadly light, Trowa managed to find time to yank out his last two daggers and throw them at Quatre's bound feet.  As soon as the Arabian felt the knife part the restraints at his ankles he rolled backwards in an agile somersault and got the hell off the table.  His hands were still trapped, but with his feet now on the floor he was able to pull the operating slab with him in order to get out of the laser's path.  It put a painful strain on his wrists, which were stuck at an awkward angle, but it was better than the alternative. He also noticed that where the beam had touched the table was split in half.  These things could literally cut you in half.  

Though there was a blessing in disguise, because the laser's pattern hadn't been as chaotic as the others (probably pointing to the fact that Morris had found time to give them a little extra attention) Quatre could now see where some of the beams were originating.  Of course, he couldn't do anything about it in his current state. 

A hiss of pain from Trowa almost provided a deadly distraction for the blonde.  He looked up to see blood staining the sleeve on his friend's shirt, and then almost missed the beam coming from his left.  He was just barely able to dodge, but it was close enough that the table was sheared away several inches in front of his wrists.  Now he had less baggage to maneuver through the dangerous rays, but his arms were still tied.  Quatre briefly considered using one of the lasers to cut his bonds but their paths were so erratic that he quickly scrapped that idea.  He didn't fancy losing a hand just because one of them decided to veer left unexpectedly.  So instead he managed to work his way over to clipped part of the table, where with some difficulty he managed to saw off the restraints with Trowa's thrown daggers while still dodging.  

Freed finally, he yanked both of the knives out of the table.  "Quatre!  To your right!"  Heeding his friend's words instantly he dived to the left, a beam narrowly missing him.  Freed now, he got ready to take care of their problem.  He flipped one of the daggers in his hand to get a better grip for throwing, and then released it.

The machine sparked and exploded in a small puff of electricity, and three of the beams disappeared.  There was still three left, which meant that there was one more automaton . . .

"Quatre, two o'clock, it's about three feet from the top!"  The blonde immediately looked where Trowa had bid and saw it.  He aimed carefully and threw the last knife hard, praying that it would hit.  If he missed . . .

He didn't.  The dagger struck true and the last of the lasers died.  Quatre quickly moved over to Trowa and his blood soaked arm.  "How bad . . ."

Trowa shook his head, already yanking off his sleeve to use as a makeshift bandage.  "It's just a flesh wound, the thing barely nicked me."

Quatre nodded in acceptance and then asked another question that he was almost afraid to know the answer to.  "Trowa," he began quietly, "did Wufei make it in time, is Duo .  . ."  He trailed off, not able to say the word for fear that what he dreaded coming true.

Instead of answering, Trowa pulled out his own communicator and spoke into it.  "O5, come in.  O5 what's your status?"  For several tense seconds there was silence, and Trowa and Quatre both waited breathlessly.

Then:  "05 here.  Abstraction of 02 successful."  The waiting pilots let out matching sighs of relief.

Then they heard another familar, very welcome voice.  "Yep.  02's a little soggy and kinda pissed, but otherwise all right.  Now where's the bastard who's responsible for all this crap?  We need to have a little talk about drowning people."

Trowa and Quatre exchanged glances, then the blonde was the one to speak into the communicator.  "He escaped," he said simply, than winced at the accompanying cursing that spewed out of the device.

Wufei voice interrupted Duo before he could really get going.  "I've just received a message from 01.  He's picked up electronic activity north of our location."

Quatre nodded, not caring that the two on the other end couldn't see it.  "That's probably him.  He seems to be alone, I never saw any other associates.  Give us the location."

Wufei's voice crackled over the speaker as he did so.  It was decided that both teams would come from different directions in a pincher attack.  Trowa and Quatre hurried to the location, and then stopped outside the entrance.  Without any firearms this was going to be more difficult than either of them would have liked, but they did have the knives, and both of them were quite proficient at throwing them.

There was a shout from inside and they hurried in, realizing that Duo and Wufei must have gotten there before them.  Inside was a large control room, where their other two teammates were flanking the opposite door.  Wufei was holding a gun, and the blonde recognized it as the one he had dropped before being knocked out by the gas.  The Chinese boy looked furious and Quatre finally saw why.

Ivan Morris was threateningly holding his palm pressed to a red button on the side of a console.  He was shouting, pale eyes wild and triumphant.  "If you come even a step closer I'll push it!"  Morris saw Quatre enter and smiled with glee.  "You may have escaped my lasers," on the opposite side of the room Quatre saw Duo raise an eyebrow and mouth 'lasers' incredulously, "but you won't escape this.  This is a self-destruct button I built in for the entire Emerald Sphere Resort, and there is no countdown.  We'll all be blown to bits instantly.  It's not the way I would have chosen to kill you, Quatre.  But it is acceptable."

Quatre blanched when he realized exactly what he meant.  Pressing that button wouldn't only mean their deaths; it would also mean the deaths of all the innocent vacationers on the surface.  He opened his mouth in the hope of negotiating, but apparently Ivan Morris had decided on a course of action.

He pressed the button.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer:  Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and others who aren't me.  I don't get any monetary compensation from this fic. 

**Warnings:  **Yaoi, violence, sexual situations.  The last chapter to the story (is that a warning?  Or a blessing?)

Chapter 8 

Ivan Morris pressed down the self-destruct button . . . and nothing happened.  He cursed and stared uncomprehendingly, then mashed his fist down on it again.

Still, nothing happened.

Getting frustrated, he punched the button over and over, cursing angrily.  He was practically quivering with thwarted rage.  The gundam pilots exchanged glances.  Finally Duo said:  "dude, give it up."

"Why isn't it working!?"  Morris screamed, a vein popping out unattractively on his forehead.

"Because it needs this."  They all turned and looked as Heero appeared in the room.  In his hand he held a fistful of wires, obviously the reason they hadn't all been blown to kingdom come.  The Japanese pilot raised an eyebrow as Morris started to pitch a fit, jumping up and down, screaming, and frothing at the mouth.  He was so busy having his little temper tantrum that he didn't notice Duo walking up behind him until he smacked him on the back of the head.

Morris turned around in outrage, holding his injured noggin protectively.  "How dare you?  Why you little . . ."  

From there his language deteriorated horribly, though Duo didn't look terribly offended; his expression was more amused than anything else.  Finally he reared back his fist and clocked the guy, looking immensely satisfied as Morris crashed unconscious to the floor.  He shook his head in mock disgust.  "Looks like we're going to have to wait to have that talk about drowning people."

Wufei walked up behind him and rested his hand comfortably on Duo's shoulder.  "I think you've done all the talking you need to."  

Duo chuckled.  "I suppose you're right, and I think our little talk went pretty damn well.  Don't you think so, guys?"

Quatre grinned and bounced across the floor to Duo, only to reverse course halfway there and throw his arms around Heero instead.  The Japanese boy stiffened, not expecting the attack, but after a minute he unfroze and slid his arms around the blonde's shoulders.  Quatre could literally feel his jealousy turn to relief, the reason why he had greeted him first.  "Speaking of talks, we need to have one about putting yourself in unnecessary danger," he told the blonde sternly.

Quatre made a face.  " It worked didn't it?"

Heero's expression got even stricter.  "Idiot," he pronounced calmly.

"Hey, Heero old buddy, I thought that was your pet name for me?"  Duo was obviously feeling rather giddy after cheating death once again.

"It's now a shared title."

Quatre paused and stared around the room, focusing on each of his friend's in turn.  There was relief from Heero, happiness from Duo, contentment from Wufei, and a strange mixture of uncertainty and satisfaction from Trowa.  He could _feel_ what each and every one of them was feeling, at once.  That had never happened before.  His gift had never been this intense in the past, not for everyday emotions.

"Quatre, is something wrong?" 

 Concern laced the relief from Heero now, and the blonde turned to look at him.  For a second he hesitated, than he smiled and schooled his features to hide the turmoil behind them.  "Every thing is fine, better than fine in fact.  I'm just so glad that everyone's okay."  He turned and looked at Duo and Wufei, smiling happily.  He didn't want them to have to deal with his problems right now.  Maybe he should tell Heero what was going on, but maybe it would go away on its own, and there would be no reason to worry him.

Trowa walked up to Ivan and poked him with his toe.  "We should get him restrained, then call some on-duty authorities."  

"Yeah, because this sure shouldn't be our problem anymore.  Damn it, we're on vacation, we've still got a couple days left!"  Duo shouted happily, ignoring the groans from his teammates.

"But the paperwork . . ."

"We did bring him down, I'd like to see this to the end."

"Duo . . ."

Violet eyes narrowed dangerously.  "We.  Are.  Not.  Leaving."  He said, clipping off each word precisely.  He suddenly smiled sharkishly.  "Besides, Wufei, Trowa, don't we have to have a little talk?"

That shut them up.

Two days later, Quatre finished packing his suitcase.  He straightened up and looked around the suite, left-hand rubbing his head absently.  The blonde had a headache, and he wasn't looking forward to the shuttle ride home.  He had gotten them first class this time around, but there was still going to be other people on the flight.  

Quatre had found out that his teammates weren't the only ones whose emotions he could read.  He could feel _everybody's_, and he couldn't shut it off.  It was painful, never being alone in his own head, and if he didn't concentrate and sort out what belonged to who it was easy to mistake the emotions for his own.

But he still hadn't told anybody what was going on.

In fact, he was trying very hard to hide it from them.  After they had gotten Morris turned over to the authorities, Quatre had been forced to do some fast talking to keep Duo from telling Heero about his little incident in the forest and dragging him off to a doctor.  He had managed to convince Duo that it had been his empathy, and not a side effect from the Red Formula.

He had been at least half telling the truth.  It _had_ been his empathic ability working overtime, but he suspected that his increased ability was a result of the Red Formula.  But if that was the case, what could modern science do about it?  Would the doctors even believe him when he mentioned his gift, or would they just consider it a delusion?

So he had kept quiet about it.  

And it was hard.  Duo had mentioned that he had felt the strangest thing when he had been drowning.  He had felt Quatre's presence.  He had laughed it off, but the blonde had known what Duo didn't.  He really had been there.  But still, he said nothing.

Amusement, a nagging worry.  Quatre knew that Heero had entered the room, even though his footfalls were near silent.  "Quatre, staring at your suitcase isn't going to make anymore room appear.  You shouldn't have bought so many souvenirs."  The dark haired pilot crossed the room to the blonde and slid his arms around his waist.

The Arabian leaned back into the embrace.  One person's emotions at a time he could handle, especially when they were Heero's.  "I got it shut didn't I?"

"So you did.  I'm dutifully impressed.  Quatre . . . is everything alright?"

Quatre closed his eyes in exhaustion.  "Everything's fine," he replied by rote, "I just have a little headache."

"Hn."

A tiny smile quirked the blonde's lips, -even before the increase in his abilities, he had been able to translate Heero's varied 'hns.'  This one meant 'I don't quite believe you but I'm going to let it go for now.'

Quatre sighed and settled back more comfortably against his lover.  Aquamarine eyes stared into space.  He would force himself to be fine.  For Heero's sake, and his own, he would ignore this.

He would _make_ everything stay fine.

Duo leaned back comfortably in his seat, fingers entwined with Trowa's on the armrest on his left side, foot brushing against Wufei on the other side.  A grin pulled at his mouth.  He was happy.  Really, ridiculously happy, and he had never figured that things would turn out this way, but he was glad they had.

It just went to show that life enjoyed throwing him curveballs.

He peeked past Trowa and looked out the small oval window, watching the small peaceful ball that was The Emerald Sphere Resort recede farther and farther away.  He loved that place.

Okay, so he had almost died there, but all was forgiven now.  Duo wasn't one to hold grudges.

A great relationship with _two_ of his best friends made him willing to forgive almost everything.  He still couldn't believe he could use that word.  Relationship.  It was such a bland word, but it sure meant a lot.  They had talked.  About a lot of things really, but in the end Duo had agreed that they could all try and be together.  It might not last, but this time Duo was at least going to try.

He leaned past Wufei to look at Quatre and Heero's seats.  The blonde had the window, and his head was resting on a pillow propped up against the side of the shuttle.  The American frowned slightly when he saw the expression on the sleeping blonde's face.  His eyes were screwed shut tight and he didn't look like he was sleeping peacefully.  As he watched, Heero leaned over and took Quatre's hand, which was pushed into a tight fist, and held it in his own, massaging until the hand loosened.  The Japanese boy was watching the blonde too.  His face was expressionless, but he showed no signs of releasing Quatre's hand from his own.

Duo shook his head and leaned back in his seat again, trying to shake off the sudden feeling of unease.  It was ridiculous.  Yuy would take care of Quatre, that was obvious from his actions.  Duo shouldn't worry; it would only upset the blonde.  He shook off lingering dark thoughts and situated himself more comfortably.  He glanced to his left, where Trowa was sleeping, and then he looked to his right.  He couldn't help but grin as he watched Wufei trying to fight the urge to take a nap.  His eyes would slide shut and his chin would start a downward slope to his chest, but then his eyes and head would jerk open and up and he would start the process all over again.  Duo chuckled softly and let his own eyelids slide closed.

It was a peaceful little scene.

He would enjoy it while it lasted.

Peaceful Illusions:  The End

**Notes:**  This is the end of Peaceful Illusions.  I hope everyone enjoyed it.  And yes, because of the developments in the last chapter, there will probably be a sequel.  I have a bad feeling that this might develop into the plotline that never ends.  We'll see.

Thank you very much to all who reviewed.  I may not have replied to everyone, but know that I appreciated what you all said none the less.  Special thanks to Caer, for her patience in the completion of her thank you gift.  Also thanks to my wonderful beta reader Willowbranch.  And last (but never least) thanks to Anne, with her continent crossing nagging stick.  (Anne - Thanks for giving my stories such a nice home!)


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